


Meet & Greet

by imel



Category: Real Person Fiction, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 34,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imel/pseuds/imel
Summary: You missed out on a Tom Holland meet and greet, but a stranger, who you are pretty sure is a Tom Holland lookalike, rescues you from your pity party for one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a few years now, but Tom Holland was just too damn pretty.

You plopped down on a bench, rested your elbows on your knees, and cupped your chin in your hands. Today officially sucked. It was a complete and utter trainwreck, and almost nothing could redeem it.

You’d missed it – what was secretly supposed to be the pinnacle of your European trip, a meet and greet with Tom Holland. He’d been your celebrity crush for years now. A 12 hour delay for your international flight and a public transit mix-up had made you too late. It was already over, and the crowd had dispersed back into the hustle and bustle of London.

You still had almost two weeks of your European trip to go, but it didn’t particularly excite you at the moment. You were too busy indulging in your pity party for one.

On top of that, it had started raining, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It seemed somehow appropriate. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting on the bench, getting progressively more wet as time passed, but the drops suddenly stopped falling on your head.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll catch cold sitting in the rain like this?” a man asked from above you, holding a black umbrella.

You glanced up. He bore a striking resemblance to Tom Holland, but there were plenty of celebrity lookalikes. You didn’t want to be weird, or rude, or scare him away if he was actually Tom Holland. “I was running late and missed something I’d been really looking forward to.”

“The meet and greet?” he guessed.

“Yeah. My flight was delayed, and I’m not used to the public transit here,” you responded glumly.

“That’s too bad. I don’t normally do this, but would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? Maybe it’d cheer you up,” he offered.

You paused for a moment to consider. Coffee with the Tom Holland lookalike who hopefully wasn’t a serial killer, or going back to your hotel room alone to brood. You decided to take your chances with being a case on Investigation Discovery, or making a complete fool of yourself in front of the actual Tom Holland, if it was him, which it probably wasn’t. “I don’t normally have coffee with people I haven’t met before, but sure, why not?”

He chuckled. “Do you want to stop to get some dry clothes first? You’re soaked.”

“I’m staying at the Premier Inn near Kingston station. I’m not exactly sure where that is relative to here. I have a transit map somewhere in my bag, or I could get us an Uber.”

“No need. I know where it is.” He reached out a hand to help you up, and you took it. His hand was warm. Until then, you hadn’t realized how cold you’d gotten.

You crowded underneath the umbrella next to him, trying not to get too close. You weren’t sure where you were headed. At this point, you’d be happy with just out of the rain.

He led you to a car parked nearby, opened the trunk, and pulled out a blanket. You were a bit confused until he draped it over the passenger seat to keep it from getting wet. The dry car was a nice change from the cold rain.

It was definitely a nice car, and you wracked your brain wondering if you’d seen what the real Tom Holland drove. You couldn’t remember offhand.

He quickly got in the driver’s side and shut the door. After starting the car, he turned on the heater and started driving. The warm air was nice on your chilled skin. “So, what brings you to London, other than the meet and greet?”

“I hadn’t traveled outside of the US before, and a trip to Europe sounded fun. The only thing I booked was a couple nights here so I could go to the meet and greet, and a return flight. I didn’t want an itinerary, in case something piqued my interest.“

"How long do you have before you head back? I’ve done quite a bit of traveling. I could suggest some places for you to visit.”

“My flight back home is in 13 days. I just got in earlier today. I was supposed to get in yesterday, but that unfortunately didn’t happen. I barely had time to check in at the hotel and take a shower before I had to turn around and leave again.”

“You’ll probably want to stick around here for a few days then, until you get over the jet lag.”

“I’m not tired yet, but I haven’t really had time to be. It’s been nonstop since I landed this morning. I can’t wait to actually have some time to relax.”

“Well, I hope the rest of your holiday is better than today has been for you.”

“Thanks. It’s already looking up.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled over at you. 

You fell into a comfortable silence, letting him focus on driving, since the rain was coming down harder. A car accident wasn’t how you wanted to continue your day. You tried not to keep glancing over at your mysterious companion as inconspicuously as you could. He definitely did look like Tom Holland, but you still weren’t entirely sure.

“Okay, we’re here,” he said as he parked. “Would you mind if I came up with you? I’ve really got to go to the loo.”

“Not at all.” You tried not to think too hard about being in a hotel room alone with him, Tom Holland lookalike or not. How were you even going to bring that up?


	2. Chapter 2

Your mysterious companion handed you his umbrella. “Ready to make a run for it?”

“You don’t have to.” You tried to hand the umbrella back to him.

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

You definitely appreciated his gentlemanly behavior. He seemed really sweet, regardless of who he was or wasn’t. He’d probably be good company for the evening, if nothing else.

You ran together into the lobby, through the torrential downpour. The umbrella really didn’t help much, since it had gotten windy. At least he wasn’t nearly as wet as you were.

He ran his fingers through his hair. It had curled up quite a bit where it was damp and looked adorable. You found yourself wanting to touch it.

He pulled out his phone while you were getting in the elevator, and put it away after the elevator door opened again on your floor. “The rain’s not supposed to let up for a few hours.”

“Do you want to just hang out here?” you asked mindlessly as you walked toward your room. It didn’t fully occur to you what you’d suggested until after the words left your mouth. Hotel rooms weren’t really ideal for just ‘hanging out.’ There weren’t even two chairs, and the room was dominated by a single large bed.

He shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

You hands were a bit shaky, and you found yourself fumbling with the key card. It ended up on the floor in front of the door.

He bent over, picked it up, and slid it into the slot effortlessly. He pushed the door open, gesturing you to go inside. “Are you nervous?”

“I, uh, haven't ever been in a hotel room alone with a guy before," you admitted.

"There's a first time for everything, though, right?" he responded with a smile and placed the key card on the dresser.

If only he knew. That was what you'd been thinking of, every last one of the implications of being in a hotel room alone with one of the most attractive men you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. You hadn't even been kissed before, and here you were, with your mysterious stranger who was possibly Tom Holland, honestly more toward likely at this point. There had been no reason to think he wasn’t.

Your arousal was probably palpable, and you hoped he didn’t notice. You’d rather avoid the awkward situation and inevitable rejection. He could have all the models and actresses he wanted, and you knew you were definitely neither of those things.

He startled you out of your thoughts. "I'll be right back." He went into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind him. 

You hefted your suitcase up onto the bed to look through your clothes for something dry to wear. It fell on the floor instead, spreading your belongings in a pile in front of you. You sighed.

The bathroom door opened, and he noticed you trying to sort through the mess. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“Thank you. You’re so sweet.”

He smiled as he kneeled down beside you and started folding up the mess of clothes. You were worried about him seeing your bras and panties when he suddenly burst out laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.

You looked over at him, curious, and he had a box in his hand with a post-it note attached.

“Someone seems to think you need to ‘leave your v-card in Europe.’”

You could feel your face flushing with embarrassment as you peered down at the handwriting and immediately recognized it and that what he was holding was a box of condoms. “That would be my best friend. I’m so sorry.” You buried your face in your hands, cheeks burning.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, gently lifting your chin. “Why are you sorry?”

You looked into his pretty brown eyes and swallowed heavily. “Well, it’s kind of...I don’t know, pathetic? Most people who aren’t saving themselves for anything, and if I’m being honest, at least get kissed before they’re my age.”

“It’s not pathetic. I’m surprised someone as gorgeous as you are has gone this long without being kissed.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “It’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to, and I won’t take it personally at all, but would it be alright if I kissed you?”

You were beyond surprised. He wanted to kiss you and thought you might not want to? You were hard pressed to think of something you’d wanted more intensely than you wanted this. You couldn’t get the words to come out, but you nodded. As he started to close the gap between your lips, you stopped him and took a deep breath. “Wait. What’s your name?”

“I’m Tom. I thought you already knew,” he replied, obviously a bit confused.

“I wasn’t sure. I mean, I thought you were just a convincing lookalike at first, and then I didn’t want to be rude,” you confessed.

“I appreciate that. A lot of people aren’t that considerate. You’re sure, though? You only get one first kiss.” 

You didn’t really need to think long and hard about it. Everything was special about it -- your first international trip and a secret rendezvous with someone you’d been crushing on for ages? “I’m very sure.”

“Ready?”

You were as ready as you’d ever be. “Yeah.”

“Close your eyes, darling,” he instructed you. “It’s better that way.”

The way he called you ‘darling’ went straight between your thighs, and you found yourself shifting to ease the ache. You closed your eyes and felt his lips press against yours, warm and dry. He gently stroked your jaw with his thumb as he kissed you. A few moments dragged on before he pulled back. Your lips and jawline were tingling where he’d touched you, and your heart was pounding all the way up into your throat. You opened your eyes, a bit dazed.

He broke the silence. “How was it?”

“Wow,” was all you could manage to get out.

“I’m glad it was good, and that I could share it with you.” He smiled at you again. “You’re still soaked,” he commented, brushing his fingers against your dress. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“Oh. I’d stopped noticing.” You hadn’t moved away from him, both of you still kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, silence stretching between you. “What happens now?”

“Well, that depends. What do you want to happen now? How much further do you want to take this? Again, I won’t be offended or upset if you want to stop now. Your firsts should be special. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

“How much further will you let me?” you replied immediately, stumbling a bit over your words, not giving yourself time to second guess.

He chuckled. “So you do want to ‘leave your v-card in Europe,’ then?”

“I do, but I’m not sure how to do this.” You gestured between the two of you, then quickly added, “I know the basics. I’m just not sure what you like, or what I like for that matter.”

“I can take the lead. Do you want to change into some dry clothes first, or just get out of this?” He lightly tugged on the bottom of your dress.

Being naked in front of who you considered the pinnacle of sex appeal would be a little intimidating, now or later. Might as well get it over with. You shrugged and took another deep breath. “Well, it’s going to come off at some point anyway, right?”


	3. Chapter 3

Tom pulled the dress up over your midsection, and you lifted your arms to let him finish taking it off over your head. “These, too?” He trailed his fingers from the side of your bra down to the side of your panties, both also soaked, although your panties were soaked for multiple reasons.

You decided to be brave. “Go ahead.”

He helped you to your feet. You watched him undress you slowly, expertly undoing the clasp on your bra from in front of you. His obvious experience was reassuring. You knew he’d take good care of you. He slid your panties down your legs, brushing his fingers against your thighs and calves, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. 

He looked like he was unwrapping the best present he’d ever gotten. It seemed a bit unreal and made you feel more special than you had in a long time.

You stepped out of your panties, and he guided you onto the bed. You lay down while he was still standing above you. He gave you a long and slow once over that made you feel a bit self-conscious and vulnerable. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he eventually said.

“Thank you. I honestly feel sort of inadequate next to you. You’re gorgeous, and could have your pick of any woman you wanted, and here you are with me.”

“I think you seriously overestimate me, but thank you. I’ve never been anyone’s first before,” he admitted. “The idea that no one even kissed you before I just did is a huge turn-on.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on before. Are you going to take your clothes off, too?” You were very curious what he looked like naked. There was a distinct bulge against the front of his jeans, and you definitely wanted to get your hands, and mouth, on that.

“Not yet. I want to make you feel good first, before we think about me.”

You’d fantasized about your first time before quite a few times, but your fantasy lover, who was honestly usually him, had never been so considerate. You wondered what other ways he’d surprise you.

“Do you want to make out first?” He joined you on the bed, lying on his side next to you.

You rolled over to face him. “That sounds good.”

“Is it okay if I touch you while we’re kissing, or would you rather wait a while before I do that?”

“I’d like for you to touch me, but I’ve never had anything...inside me before. And I’m really nervous about that.”

“Not even your fingers?” He seemed surprised.

“I was too scared it would hurt,” you confessed.

“I can’t promise it won’t be uncomfortable at first, but I can promise I’m going to do my best not to hurt you. We’ll take it very slow, and we can stop at any time.”

“Okay,” you agreed, still feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Before we get started, have you touched yourself before?”

The question surprised you a little. “Yes.”

“Did you make yourself cum?”

“Yes.” You wondered if there were going to be more questions. Part of you liked it, while the rest wanted to squirm.

“What did you think about that made you cum?”

You swallowed, not particularly wanting to admit that you thought about him more often than not.

“Did you think about me?” he answered for you.

You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t be weirded out by that.

“Perfect. Tell me what you thought about me doing,” he continued.

You were relieved he didn’t think it was weird or creepy. “I thought about you kissing me,” you started, voice barely above a whisper.

He ghosted his lips over yours. “What else?”

Your head was swimming, and it was becoming harder to put together your thoughts. “I really like your accent and thinking about you, uh, talking to me.”

“You mean dirty talk?”

You nodded again.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers,” he barely brushed the juncture between your thighs with his hand, “until I make you cum so hard that all you’ll be able to remember is my name, and then bury my face between your thighs and use my tongue to write my name over and over on your clit to make sure you never forget?”

“Please,” you found yourself begging.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard,” he promised, “but first, I’m going to kiss you.”

When his lips met yours again, it was softer and wetter. The tip of his tongue gently traced the seam of your lips, and you granted him access to your mouth. His exploration of your mouth was slow and languid. You were a little relieved that it wasn’t the plunder and domination you’d seen in some romance novels, even as aroused as you were.

After a while of just enjoying the new and delicious sensations, you stopped being a completely passive partner. You rubbed your tongue against his tentatively. If the muffled moan was any indication, he enjoyed that. It emboldened you, and you pushed back to trace the line of his perfect teeth and the roof of his mouth, before lightly sucking his lower lip into your mouth and nipping it.

He did the same to you, soothing the sting with his tongue. His mouth moved to kiss along your jawline, over to your ear. He nipped the lobe and whispered, “do you want me to make you cum now?”

“So bad,” you replied, already knowing it wasn’t going to take much to send you over the edge. You were close, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“I’m going to play with you tits first,” he continued whispering into your ear. “Tease you a little bit, but don’t worry, darling, I won’t make you wait too long.”

You reacted immediately to him calling you ‘darling’ again, shivering against him.

He immediately caught on. “You like pet names, love?”

You did like it, but that didn’t elicit the same reaction from you.

“It’s just ‘darling,’ then?” he guessed.

“I think so,” you responded.

“I can work with that.” He moved you onto your back and cupped your right breast with his hand. After gently squeezing your breast, his fingers moved twirl around your nipple. You hadn’t really played with your breasts before, and you were surprised by how sensitive they were. Or maybe it was just Tom.

He sat up and placed both of his hands over your breasts, pushing them together. “You have such nice tits. I’d love to fuck them and cum all over your chest, dirty you up. God, there’s so many things I’d love to do to you.”

“Are you going to?” you asked, nervous about what his answer would be, if it was just dirty talk or he meant it.

“Do you want to spend your holiday in Europe in my bed while I do unspeakable things to you, instead of seeing the sights and having a proper trip?”

“You’re the only sight I really want to see,” you confessed.

He moved the fingers of one hand down your belly. You automatically parted your thighs. “I’m between filming right now, so consider it done, _darling_.” He emphasized the pet name and slid his finger through your folds at the same time, easily finding your clit.

You moaned and bucked against his hand, pleasure unexpectedly coursing through you. Nothing had ever felt this good before.

He smirked. “Look how responsive and wet you are for me. We’re going to have so much fun together.”


	4. Chapter 4

You weren’t in a mental state to really think about what Tom had promised you, what the rest of your European adventure would entail. You’d consider it later, after you’d had some release from all the pent up sexual frustration that was Tom Holland.

A whine involuntarily escaped your throat, and you pressed your hips up into Tom’s hand, trying so hard to get that last little bit of stimulation you needed to finally reach orgasm.

“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, love,” he assured you gently, finger finally rubbing your clit in small circles.

It didn’t take much, and you toppled over the edge. “Oh god, Tom!” you cried out between moans as you had the strongest and longest orgasm of your life. It wasn’t the first time his name had been on your lips when you came, but real Tom was so much more satisfying than fantasy Tom ever had been.

When the stimulation became too overwhelming after your orgasm ebbed, you pushed his hand away, pulse still radiating from your clit outward and heart pounding in your chest.

He brought his finger, still glistening with your wetness, to his mouth and licked it off slowly while holding your gaze. “You’re delicious. I can’t wait to get a better taste.”

“Really?” Your arousal immediately returned, verging on desperation.

“Really. And the way you just said my name almost had me cumming in my pants like a teenager,” he admitted with a chuckle.

You blushed, surprised that you had that effect on him. “Can I help you with that?”

“You don’t want me to make you cum again?” He ran his tongue across his lips deliberately while you watched, rapt.

The thought was very tempting, but you didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity. Not to mention you were still curious what he was hiding in his pants, not that you’d tell him that. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

“Believe me when I say this is no hardship. Getting my partner off gets me off, always has. But I’m not going to say ‘no’ if you insist,” he added.

“Well, then, I insist.” You reached over to rub the bulge pressing against the front of his jeans. He didn’t stop you, so you slowly popped the button and pulled down the zipper, trying not to be overly eager, even though you most definitely were. Maybe this was why he looked like he was getting the best present ever while he undressed you.

He moved to lie on his back so you could have easier access. When you tugged at his jeans, he lifted his hips. You pulled them down around his thighs, over his knees, and eventually down and off of his socked feet, tossing them victoriously down onto the floor in your pile of partially folded clothes. It seemed weird to be naked with socks on during sex, so you pulled those off, too, tossing them down into the pile next to his jeans.

“Having fun?” he asked. You glanced up, and he was grinning back at you.

“I am, but I’m not done yet.” You deliberately avoided looking at his boxers when you crawled back up the bed to pull off his t-shirt, adding it to the pile at the foot of the bed. When you were done, you noticed he was still wearing a watch. You started to take that off, too.

He laughed. “Why are you taking off my watch?”

“I don’t know. Who wears nothing but a watch during sex?” you asked.

“Me?” he replied.

You stopped undoing it for a moment.

He laughed again, his smile infectious. “I’m just messing with you. I don’t mind. You can take it off.”

You placed his watch on the nightstand.

Now that he was shirtless, you took a moment to appreciate that, and boy was there a lot to appreciate. He was definitely ripped. You traced your fingers over the hard muscles of his biceps, pecs, the definition of his abs, down to where his iliac furrow disappeared into his boxers. Then, you turned your focus there.

His boxers were tented, the line of his hardness pointed toward his stomach. You ran a finger from the base to the tip and back down again through the soft fabric. You placed your hand on his flat stomach and pushed past the waistband to wrap your hand around it from inside. 

The first thing that struck you was how much warmer it was than the surrounding skin. Then, how your fingers barely met around the girth. Your fantasy version of Tom hadn’t been that large. How was that going to fit inside you?

“Something wrong?” he asked.

You glanced up. “No, it’s just...big.”

He rubbed your arm reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m on the thicker side. Don’t worry, though. We have plenty of time. We’ll work up to it. I’m not just going to ram it into you.”

“Thank you.” Although you were still nervous, you were definitely less worried. You turned your attention back to the matter at hand, or rather, in your hand.

You stroked him slowly and watched his face to see his reactions. He had shut his eyes and his hips had started moving slightly into your touch.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, free hand on the waistband of his boxers.

“Yeah,” he replied immediately, “please.”

You tugged them off, absentmindedly discarding them on the bed instead of in the pile on the floor, and looked at his bare cock for the first time. It was flushed and a bit curved, lying flat against his stomach. You had watched some porn in the past, but Tom was a bit different. You moved his foreskin a little, curious.

He caught on quickly. “I’m not circumcised. It’s not very common over here.”

You found yourself enjoying the smooth slide of your hand over his shaft without needing any lubricant like you’d seen in the videos you watched. You really liked his soft moans. His eyes were still shut, tighter this time, brow furrowed in obvious pleasure.

An idea suddenly entered your mind that you decided to go with. You shifted and took the head of his cock in your mouth, twirling your tongue around it. He tasted like clean skin, a bit salty and bitter around the tip from what you assumed was precum. Not awful by any means.

He sharply inhaled, followed by an “oh fuck!” that almost sounded pained, and his hips thrust more of his cock into your mouth.

You barely avoided gagging, saved by the grace of only having the head in your mouth at first, but after the initial shock, he stilled. You took as much in your mouth as you could comfortably, although ‘comfortably’ was a bit of a stretch, much like your mouth with him being as thick as he was. The rest of your hand worked what couldn’t fit in your mouth, and he seemed to love that.

Minutes passed of listening to the little noises he made and the aborted movements of his hips when you did something particularly good. You liked doing it. Your jaw was growing a bit sore, but you wanted nothing more than to draw out his pleasure as long as you could. There was a larger burst of precum against your tongue when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he breathed.

You pulled your mouth off with an audible pop and worked your jaw for a moment to alleviate the soreness. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, you did something right. Got too close. Fuck.” He was still breathing a bit heavily.

“Why didn’t you just finish in my mouth?” you asked, curious.

“We didn’t talk about that. Didn’t want to make assumptions,” he answered. “But maybe you should taste it first, before you commit to having a load of it in your mouth. Some girls don’t like the taste.”

“That’s reasonable,” you agreed. “How do you want me to make you cum?”

“Your hand’s good,” he replied, “or we could try something else I like.”

“Like using my, uh, breasts? Like you said earlier?” you asked, not exactly opposed, but definitely a bit intimidated by the prospect.

“Well, there is that, and it’s definitely on the list, but I was talking about mutual masturbation.”

“So both of us touch ourselves and watch each other?” you clarified.

He nodded. “Do you want to try that?”

The thought of watching him was a turn on, enough to override how self-conscious you knew you were going to feel while he watched you. “Okay.”

“Let me just,” he said, moving to sit next to you. “It’ll be easier if you’re at the head of the bed. I’ll sit over here where you can see me, and I can get a better view. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” You crawled up to the top of the bed and propped yourself up on the pillows.

For a few moments, you stared at each other, obviously waiting for the other to start. He took mercy on you and wrapped his hand around his cock, working himself over a few times. You were still trying to get over your nerves.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He nudged your legs apart and shifted between them. “How about I get you started, and then you can take over?”

You released a sigh of relief. “That sounds better.”

After he started rubbing around your clit without actually touching it, he took your hand and placed it on top of his, teasing you as he spoke. “You know, you’ve got such a pretty cunt. I can’t wait to get my mouth on it. I’m almost tempted to do it now, eat you out until my face is dripping, make you scream my name until you’re so hoarse you can’t anymore. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, darling?”

You could tell he knew exactly what he was doing, and god, it was working. He removed his hand, placing it over yours to mimic the motions he’d been making. After he was sure you weren’t going to stop, he scooted away. You missed his hand, but yours felt good, too, more familiar with all the things you liked.

“Look at me,” he instructed.

You hadn’t realized you’d closed your eyes until you opened them again. He was stroking himself across from you, hand moving up and down his shaft, twisting a bit on the upturn. His thumb brushed the head sometimes, and he seemed to really like that.

“Getting distracted?” he asked, with a smirk.

You realized you’d almost stopped moving your hand while watching him and resumed your efforts.

“I can’t wait to get inside you,” he admitted. “That pretty, pretty cunt of yours is going to be so tight around me, no matter how many times I get you off first. Wish I could do it bare, feel how hot and wet you get for me without anything between us, be the first to fill you up with cum. I want nothing more than to lay my claim on you, set the bar so high that no lover you have after me could even come close to reaching it. I want to absolutely ruin you for all other men, darling.”

That was enough to send you soaring over the edge, and god it was good. A litany of curses and his name interspersed your moans. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open wide and watched as he spilled onto his stomach, your name on his lips. Seconds passed slowly, and he eventually scooted up to the head of the bed and lay down next to you. You were both moist with sweat and breathing hard.

“I have about a dozen things to say, but you broke my brain,” you told him, glancing over, “but first-”

You reached over and swiped your finger through the pool of cum cooling on his stomach, making sure he was watching when you popped it in your mouth. It was a bit bitter and definitely salty. Not the best thing you’d ever tasted, but also not the worst. 

You decided to return the favor from when he licked his fingers earlier, and moved your head down to his stomach. You watched his face as you deliberately and unhurriedly licked small trails through the mess, until his skin was clean, and there was nothing left.

He dropped his head back onto the pillow when you shifted away. “Fuck, you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I could say the same. My brain is less broken now, so we can talk.” You felt more comfortable in your post-orgasmic haze. “I just realized I never told you my name. How did you know it?”

“It was on the note on the condoms,” he replied, not lifting his head from the pillow. “Otherwise, I would’ve asked. I don’t really like anonymous fucks.”

“You said that the thing with my breasts was ‘on the list.’ Is there actually a list?”

“Do you want there to be one?” he countered.

You paused to consider. “Yeah. It can be my trip itinerary.”

He huffed out a laugh.

“The last thing is, well, did you mean what you said earlier?”

“I generally say what I mean, but which thing?”

You weren’t sure how to bring it up, so you just blurted out, “did you really want to try it without protection?”

“I don’t want to knock you up,” he quickly replied.

“I’m on birth control, for my periods,” you admitted, a bit awkwardly.

“How do you know I’m not going to give you anything?”

“I guess I’d have to trust you don’t have anything?” It hadn’t been something you second guessed. He was still technically almost a stranger.

“I don’t, but you need to be careful,” he admonished. “You can’t trust everyone.” He paused. “Let me think about it.”

“Okay. What do we do now?” you asked.

“Well, I’m knackered, but a shower is probably in order first.”

You watched him get up and head toward the bathroom. 

He turned around. “You coming?”

“Oh, I didn’t know I was invited!” You quickly hopped off the bed and followed after him.


	5. Chapter 5

Tom started the shower in the small bathroom and turned to face you.

You picked up the tiny bottles of off brand shampoo and conditioner, and a bar of soap from the vanity. “I didn’t bring anything with me, so it looks like this is all we’ve got.”

He crinkled his nose in obvious disgust. “Sounds like the rain has let up. We can head over to my apartment after we rinse off for a proper shower, if you like,” he offered. “It’s not too far from here.”

You hadn’t really had the opportunity yet to think ahead to the rest of your trip. You’d only booked the hotel for a couple days, and you knew you’d go somewhere else afterward theoretically, but Tom’s apartment wasn’t where you thought you’d end up next. He was inviting you into his personal space. The only response your brain could come up with was, ‘holy shit.’

“We don’t have to, if you’re not okay with it,” he added, obviously concerned he’d upset you.

“No, that’s not it,” you eventually got out. “It’s just...I didn’t expect you to invite me there.”

He realized what you meant and chuckled. “I’m not sure what you thought, but if I’m willing to have sex with you, I’m willing to let you in my apartment. I don’t sleep with every pretty girl who happens to want me.”

“You don’t?” you asked, a bit surprised that he didn’t do this regularly. “I’m not that special, or even that pretty if I’m being perfectly honest, and you-”

Before you could continue, he took your hand and pulled you into the shower with him. When you were under the spray together, his mouth met yours in a wet kiss, all tongue and teeth with a hint of desperation. His hands moved aimlessly against your body, slippery under the spray.

He separated from your lips for a moment to finish your sentence against them. “And I think you’re special.” He kissed you for a long moment, his hands now in your hair, pressing your lips hard against his. “And fucking gorgeous.” He kissed you again, longer this time. You could feel his erection flush against your stomach, rutting slightly against you. “And you don’t even know how crazy you drive me.”

With that, he easily slid down your wet body. You weren’t sure what his intent was until his nose hit your mons, and he guided your legs to drape over his muscled shoulders. You leaned back against the wall as best you could so he didn’t have to bear all of your weight, not that you thought he couldn’t do that easily with all the muscle he was packing.

He carefully moved a hand between your legs to spread you wide for him and quickly dived in. The flat of his tongue swiped a long stripe from your pussy up to over your clit and back again, wetter and more textured than you had expected it to be. He swirled his tongue around your clit and sucked the small bud into his mouth. His tongue flicked against it at the same time, and you saw stars. It was so much better than you’d imagined. Nothing had ever felt like this before, and you desperately wanted just a little bit more to drive you over the edge.

“Oh my god, Tom,” you cried out. “I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

He suddenly stopped.

Before you could think about what you were saying, “you fucking asshole,” came out of your mouth. You were momentarily mortified, but then you felt him laugh against your skin. 

His mouth moved over your pussy instead, and he pointed his tongue to press in and around your entrance slightly. His tongue didn’t actually penetrate you, but came close. He repeated the motion, quickly riling you back up to the point of desperation again.

The idea of having something inside you didn’t scare you in that moment, your mind too clouded with arousal for much thought. “Do it,” you begged, “do it, do it, do it.”

He moved the hand that was spreading you so a finger could find your clit while he continued to work you over with his tongue. His finger slid wetly across and around your clit for long moments before focusing on it directly.

Your orgasm hit almost immediately, every bit as intense as the last you’d had with him. You shouted his name as you involuntarily squirmed hard against his face, fingers buried in his hair and head thudding against the wall behind you.

While you were riding the high of your pleasure, his tongue finally penetrated you. You definitely felt the stretch. It was intense, and something you could only describe as ‘a lot,’ but it wasn’t painful. His tongue fucked you shallowly with gentle strokes through your orgasm, until your body had calmed down again. 

You ran your fingers through his wet hair absentmindedly, scratching his scalp a bit. You heard a muffled “mmmm” between your legs. He pressed into your touch. You wanted to do it again when his hair was dry.

After some time had passed, he carefully shifted you off his shoulders, and you slid slowly down the tile wall until you were seated on the shower floor next to him. Water was still streaming down onto you both. You rested your head against the wall behind you, eyes closed, while you finished recovering.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“No. It was good. Really good. Thank you.” You opened your eyes to look over at him, sitting with his knees pressed to his chest. His hair was plastered to his head, bare skin flushed slightly pink from the hot water, and he looked utterly satisfied.

“It was my pleasure.”

“Can I take care of you now?” you asked, very eager to get your hands and mouth back on him again. Maybe he’d let you do more this time.

“No need. The way you came on my face got me off, too. God, did it ever get me off,” he admitted.

You couldn’t help the grin that crossed your face at the thought that you did that without even touching him. “Glad to be of service?”

He returned your grin. “You give the best service. I’d leave a 5 star review on Yelp.”

You laughed. “You get 5 stars, too. Very pleased. Definitely would visit again.”

He huffed another laugh and started to stroke your calf with his hand, but stopped. “My fingers are pruney.”

“We should probably get out of the shower.”

“Probably,” he agreed, but made no motion to get up. “We can head over to my apartment and get takeaway. Chinese sounds good.”

“Chinese does sound good. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning.” You weren’t really hungry at the moment, but food had been the furthest thing from your mind all day. To say it had been eventful was an understatement.

“Come on, then.” He pushed himself to his feet and reached out a hand to help you up.

You turned off the water and stood in front of him, gazing into his pretty brown eyes as he gazed back into yours. Long seconds dragged on, and you didn’t know why your heart was pounding the way it was.

Before you could overthink it, you pressed a quick kiss to his lips and grabbed a towel.


	6. Chapter 6

You were a bit nervous that someone would see you with Tom in the hotel and take a picture to post online. You didn’t want him, or you for that matter, to get the level of hate that tended to happen with those sorts of things.

“You’re checking out early. Was there anything wrong with the room?” the hotel desk clerk asked.

“No, it was fine,” you quickly answered, stumbling a bit over your words. “I just had an, uh, unexpected change of plans.”

The clerk tapped at the computer keyboard in front of her. “Since you didn’t cancel with 24 hours notice, you’ll still be charged for the room for tonight and tomorrow night. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you agreed, desperate to get this over with and far away from the hotel.

“Now, I’ll need the key card, and we can finish checking you out.”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. Tom had taken the key card to grab your suitcase. You thought of all the online hate you could create for what amounted to an extended hookup and decided it wasn’t worth retrieving. “I, uh, lost it.”

She seemed unimpressed. “There’s a surcharge for that.”

“That’s fine,” you said, not really caring how much it was.

As she was tapping the keyboard, you were tapping your foot.

“Okay, you’re all checked out now. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks, you too.” You walked out to the parking lot, night air still humid and heavy from the rain. You quickly glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Fortunately, no one seemed to be.

You walked to the right side of the car out of habit before you realized that the seats were reversed here, and hurried over to the passenger side to get in. You shut the door behind you and heaved a sigh of relief.

“I have the keycard.” Tom held it up.

“I told them I lost it,” you confessed.

“Why?” he asked.

“I was afraid someone would take a picture of you with me at a hotel and make all the wrong, well, I guess technically right, assumptions. I don’t want you to have to deal with that.” You stared at the floorboard.

“No one was paying attention to us,” he reassured you, taking your hand and stroking his thumb over the back of it. “It’s sweet of you to be concerned, and before we get there, no one camps outside of my apartment late at night to take pictures of me. I’m not that famous.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, then looked up at him. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m being silly.”

“You’re not. The paparazzi is an issue sometimes, but they don’t follow me everywhere.” He let go of your hand and started driving. “I’ve been with girls after I was cast as Spiderman without it being in the tabloids. Just have to have some discretion.”

Curiosity got the better of you. “So you don’t lead a life of celibacy?”

“Hardly. I was serious, though, when I said I don’t hook up with every pretty girl I meet. There’s been…” He paused in contemplation. “Maybe half a dozen or so, in the past couple of years? The last one was a few months ago at a party after I had a drink too many. I don’t usually enjoy one night stands as a rule.”

“So a longer-term friend with benefits?” you ventured.

“Something like that,” he agreed.

“You were willing to break your rule for me?”

“Sort of. It was probably presumptuous of me, but you had no concrete plans, and I thought you might be willing to spend a couple weeks with me instead of a couple hours,” he admitted.

“Not really presumptuous.” You glanced over at him. “I’ve had a crush on you for ages.”

“Am I living up to all your hopes and dreams?” he asked cheekily.

“I definitely imagined you’d be a less generous lover. I figured that being a movie star would have made you feel more...entitled? I’m not sure if that’s the exact term I’m looking for.” You shrugged.

“No, I get it. There are definitely some actors who let it go to their heads. I’ve heard plenty of horror stories. I try really hard to be the same person I was before Marvel came into my life.”

“I didn’t know you then, but you seem completely grounded to me.”

“I’m glad, although I have almost two weeks left to disappoint you.” He smiled over at you.

You weren’t sure you’d ever get over his smile. It made your knees weak. Well, really, he made your knees weak. You weren’t sure how long you watched his profile in the dim light, but it startled you out of your reverie when he parked.

“Okay, we’re here.”

You both got out of the car. You couldn’t help glancing around to see if there was anyone watching. He retrieved your suitcase from the trunk, carrying it for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you commented.

“I try,” he replied, drily.

You walked up to his door, and he paused. “Before we go in, you might end up taking back what you said about me being grounded.”

“Why would you say that?” you asked, curious.

“I have some Spiderman memorabilia.” He paused. “Not a ton, but, well, enough.”

You laughed. “That’s not a big deal.”

“You say that now.” He unlocked the door and ushered you in.

You walked in and looked around. There was a modest amount of Spiderman memorabilia, but it didn’t bother you. If you were in a movie, you’d want your merchandise, too.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a takeout menu. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll place the order.”

“You don’t have to get me dinner,” you started.

“No, I insist.” He handed you the menu.

You glanced over it, picked out your favorite dish, and gave the menu back.

He tapped at his phone for a few minutes while you watched idly, and then turned his attention back to you. “Should be here in around 45 minutes.”

“What can we do for the next 45 minutes?” You glanced over at his TV, wondering if people in the UK had Netflix or Hulu.

“I might have some ideas,” he said from behind you.

“Oh?” you wondered aloud.

“Actually, quite a few ideas.” He wrapped his arms around you, sliding a hand down your shirt to the waistband of your pants.

You were definitely on board with whatever ‘ideas’ he had in mind, but 45 minutes didn’t seem that long. “You can’t answer the door naked.”

“Who said anything about me being naked, darling?” He drew out the last word at the same time he slipped his hand inside your pants and panties.

“Oh god,” you moaned.

“Already so wet for me,” he commented as he slid a finger through your slick folds, rubbing circles around your clit without actually touching it, teasing you. “I can’t decide whether I want to get my mouth on that delicious cunt of yours again, or fuck you with my fingers and tell you all the filthy, filthy things I want to do to you for the next 13 days.”

“Please,” you begged, not caring what he chose, as long as he chose it soon.

“Bed first.” He led you to his bedroom. You kicked off your shoes and lay on his unmade bed.

He made quick work of taking off your pants and panties. “I’m gonna try something, but tell me to stop if I hurt you, or you don’t like it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

He nudged your thighs apart and slid on his stomach between your spread legs. You draped them over his shoulders, soft material of his shirt against your bare skin. You stroked your fingers through his silky curls, and it definitely felt nicer dry than wet.

Like the last time, he dove in eagerly. His tongue quickly found your clit, and this time, he didn’t seem to want to tease you. He sucked your clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue over it, but this time he didn’t stop.

Your orgasm hit quickly, and you felt a single finger press into you. It felt bigger than his tongue had, and definitely deeper, and a bit more uncomfortable. You didn’t really have time to process the feeling before he crooked it, and pleasure sparked in you, sharp, bright, and incredible.

You screamed his name and bucked hard against his face, fingers tangling in his hair and unconsciously tugging it. 

He didn’t stop until you stilled, and then pulled his face back, finger still buried inside you. His face was glistening with your wetness. He was breathing hard.

“Are you alright?” you asked, concerned.

“Yeah. Looks like you like g-spot stimulation.” He moved his finger and crooked it again.

The spark of pleasure returned, and your hips thrust involuntarily again.

“I might be able to get you to squirt. We’ll see. How does my finger feel?”

You thought about it for a moment. “It felt really big and really deep at first, but now it just feels good. I think I might want more.”

“Maybe another finger?”

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I trust you.”

He collected some of your wetness on his middle finger and pressed it gently against the index finger, still buried in you. You sharply inhaled when the tip breached you, pressure turning to a bit of pain and an uncomfortable stretch.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, stilling.

You gulped, knowing that his cock was never going to fit in you if you couldn’t even take a couple of fingers. You knew you didn’t have all the time in the world with him, and you wanted to make the most of what time you had. “No, don’t stop.”

“You’re doing so well, love, absolutely perfect. Just a little more.” He worked his middle finger in slowly, rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his free hand. “I promise it’ll feel much better soon. You’ll be taking my cock in no time, sweetheart.”

Although they didn’t spike your arousal the way he called you ‘darling’ did, the pet names made your heart flutter. When his palm finally bumped into your skin, you breathed a sigh of relief. After giving you a little time to adjust, his thumb started rubbing your clit in unhurried circles. The stretch and ache were still there, but you stopped noticing as much when your arousal flared again.

Your orgasm came quicker this time, but no less bright or intense. While you chanted his name between moans, he thrust both fingers in and out. He gradually built up speed, brushing your g-spot every few times, and driving you absolutely crazy. 

The pleasure distracted you from the uncomfortable stretch when he occasionally scissored his fingers slightly. The stretch soon became a satisfying fullness, something you definitely wanted again. You were very, very glad your previous fears had been unwarranted.

“Such a good girl for me.” He withdrew his fingers as your orgasm subsided. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No. It hurt at first, but then it felt really good.”

He started to lick his fingers off slowly again, making sure you were watching. “I love the way you say my name when you cum. I want to take you apart for hours, get you off on my fingers, my mouth, my cock, until we lose track of how many times you’ve cum, but I still don’t think I could get enough.”

Your already pounding pulse found its way to your clit again, and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped you.

“I promise I’ll take such good care of you, darling. I’ll-”

The doorbell rang.

“Shit.” He quickly wiped his face off on the back of his hand and adjusted himself in his pants. “You can get dressed again, and we’ll have dinner.” He paused for a second, thoughtful. “Or don’t. I’ll leave it up to you.”

He hurried off to answer the door, leaving you lying on his bed, utterly and completely sexually frustrated.


	7. Chapter 7

You considered just getting yourself off again, but decided against it. However, you did decide to forego pants and panties. Maybe Tom would take mercy on your poor sexually frustrated soul.

When you heard the front door shut, you padded out into the living room.

He saw you and grinned. “I approve of your wardrobe choices.”

His smile was infectious. “I was hoping you would.”

He opened the paper bag of takeout and placed the containers and plastic silverware on the coffee table, then headed back toward the kitchen. “What do you want to drink? I have bottled water, beer, some soft drinks.”

“Water works,” you replied.

He returned and handed you a bottle of water, then sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him.

The tantalizing smell of Chinese food made you realize how hungry you really were. You took a long draw from your water bottle and sat close to him. Your bare thigh touched his leg, which was still unfortunately covered by his jeans. You peeked in the takeout containers until you found what you’d chosen.

You started eating while he turned on the TV and scrolled through Netflix. “Any preferences?”

“Whatever you want to watch is fine with me,” you responded between bites. 

You hadn’t seen the movie he’d chosen. It wasn’t something you normally would have picked, but you didn’t mind. He grabbed one of the other takeout containers and dug in.

The silence between you while you ate was comfortable, but you struggled to pay attention to the movie when you could pay attention to him instead. You’d thought he was devastatingly handsome and sexy before, but that was amplified tenfold in person. 

It didn’t feel quite real that you were sitting next to Tom Holland in his apartment, eating Chinese takeout, naked from the waist down. How was this your life now?

He seemed to share your lack of interest in the movie, looking over at you as much as you were looking at him.

You could tell when you glanced down that he was still hard in his pants, and you really wanted to do something about it.

After you’d both finished eating and placed your empty takeout containers on the coffee table, he turned to you. “How are you feeling? Tired yet?”

“Not really,” you replied. “Are you ready to head to bed?”

“No, but I’ll be right back.” You heard him walk off toward the bedroom.

You thought about following him, waiting for him naked and ready in his bed, but you stayed where you were.

He returned a short time later. “I thought of something I’d like to try, if you want to.”

“I’ve liked all of your ideas so far,” you responded, trying not to seem as eager as you were.

“How do you feel about porn?” he asked.

“I’ve watched it before,” you admitted. “I liked some of it.”

“Good.” He grabbed the remote, went through some menus, and a video started playing. 

A naked bleach blonde was lying on a couch. An equally naked man with more muscles than Tom, and a frankly frighteningly big cock, approached her. He grabbed a neon pink bullet vibrator from the end table next to the couch. The camera zoomed in close up when spread her legs wide.

The actor teased her clit with the vibrator, and she moaned like it was the best thing she’d ever felt. It didn’t take long before she came, long and hard. You didn’t think she was faking it. While she was still in the midst of her orgasm, the actor thrust into her in one sure stroke, then immediately started pounding her like his life depended on it.

You glanced over at Tom for a moment to find him watching you instead of the video. “Is this one of your favorites?”

“Not really. I just wanted to see how you’d react to, well, this.” He held up a purple bullet vibrator similar to the one in the video. “If you’re not interested, or not ready, we don’t have to.” He paused. “And I definitely won’t just ram my cock into you after you’ve cum, like he did.”

You’d considered buying a vibrator before, but had been too shy to go into a sex store, and too worried about indiscreet packaging to order one online. You held out your hand. “Can I see it first?”

“Of course.” He dropped it into your hand.

You ran your fingers over it. The material was a very soft and silky silicone. You enjoyed the way it felt against your skin. There was a button on the end. You pressed it, but it didn’t turn on. “Is it broken?”

“No, twist the bottom.”

You did, and it quietly buzzed to life. You almost dropped it. The vibration was stronger than you expected. You pressed the button on the bottom to see what it did. There was a variety of modes, at least a dozen -- stronger levels of vibration, pulsing, a series of vibrations of increasing intensity. You wanted to try them all.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think I’m getting your couch wet,” you answered honestly.

He laughed. “It’s been through worse.”

You handed the vibrator back to him, not sure if he wanted you here or in the bedroom.

Your question was answered when he kneeled in front of you, spreading your legs apart with his hands. You scooted to the edge of the couch to give him easier access.

“You weren’t lying when you said you were wet,” he commented, licking his lips. “Was it the porn or the vibrator?”

“Mostly just you,” you confessed.

He swiped the turned off vibrator through your wetness to lubricate it. “Be careful stroking my ego so much.”

“Can I stroke something else instead?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He laughed again. “All in good time.”

He turned on the vibrator and placed it near, but not touching, your clit.

You jumped a bit at the intensity of it.

He moved it further away from your clit. “Too much?”

“No, just didn’t expect it to feel like that. That was...wow.”

He returned the vibrator to its previous location, sliding it smoothly around your clit through your wetness. You hadn’t experienced this sort of pleasure before, nothing so sudden, from 0 to 60 in less than a second. You were already close, and he still hadn’t pressed it against your clit.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, too, darling? Get you closer to ready to take my cock?” he asked.

Your response was immediate. “Yes,” you breathed.

He pressed his index finger into you, and you were relieved to find that was met with no resistance and was no longer painful. He crooked it to find your g-spot, and you almost came right on the spot. He sensed that it wasn’t enough. “Are you ready for another?”

You nodded. “Please,” you forced out between the noises he was drawing from you.

He added a second finger. It was only a little harder to take this time, but the vibrator helped distract you from any discomfort. Everything just felt varying degrees of amazing, and he still hadn’t touched your clit with it. Vibrators were one of your new favorite things.

He scissored his fingers slightly, then a bit more. You noticed him staring up at your face, gauging your reactions. “Do you want to try one more?”

Before your nerves could get the better of you, you replied, “go ahead.”

The third finger was a little rough, even with the vibrator. He curved all three against your g-spot, dangerously close to grazing your clit with the vibrator, and you almost accidentally kicked him at the bright shock of pleasure that coursed through you.

The porn scene still played in your mind, though. You couldn’t stop thinking about Tom fucking you deep on the couch with the vibrator buzzing away, bringing you to an orgasm as powerful as the porn star’s.

“Please, give it to me,” you begged, pleasure-addled enough that you forgot Tom wasn’t privy to your thoughts.

“Do you want it faster or harder?” he asked as he continued to move his fingers within you.

“No, well yes, but your cock. I want your cock,” you begged.

“I don’t think you’re ready for-”

“I’m ready,” you insisted. “Give it to me, Tom. Please. I need it.”

“God, you beg so pretty.” He cursed under his breath. “Okay, give me a second.”

You whined, wanting him to hurry.

He dropped the vibrator on the couch, still buzzing away, and almost fell in his rush to get out of his shoes, then pants. “Fuck.”

Once he was naked from the waist down, like you, he grabbed the vibrator and bent back down in front of you, lining up his erection with your entrance, stopping. “You’re sure?”

Instead of answering with words, you pressed your hips up toward him, trying in vain to just take what you so desperately wanted. He placed the vibrator directly on your clit this time. Your orgasm was almost instantaneous and more intense than you expected. The pleasure-pain of Tom’s cock breaching you somehow made it even better.

“I’m sorry, this is going to be a quick fuck,” he breathed, thrusting quickly, but relatively gently.

Instead of your orgasm ebbing as it usually did, you hit a second peak. It skirted the edge of too much. You dug your fingers into his bare arms, shaking against him.

Tom cried out your name and followed you over the edge, dropping the vibrator on the floor. He pressed his forehead against yours, damp with sweat. You were both breathing heavily.

You felt him softening inside you, slick with a combination of your own wetness and his cum.

“That was not how I planned this to go,” he eventually said.

“But you’re okay?” you asked, worried you’d been too demanding.

“I think I should be asking you that,” he pointed out.

You were a little sore, but also completely satisfied. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

“Make what up to me?”

“I didn’t even get you to a bed, and I lasted like a minute.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that. It was just the first time, not the last one.” You were already trying not to think about the last one, that this had an expiration date.

He pulled out, and you crinkled your nose at the sensation of his cum leaking from inside you. He reached down to grab the vibrator from the floor and turn it off.

“I’ll get you a flannel,” he said, heading off toward the bedroom again.

You tried to figure out what he meant, but came up empty handed. You heard the water running in the master bathroom. He returned with a damp white washcloth.

You reached out to take it from him, but he shook his head. He got down between your legs again and wiped through the mess gingerly, until you were clean again.

“You’re bleeding a bit,” he commented guiltily.

You shrugged. “I thought that was normal your first time. I’m a little sore, but definitely okay. No regrets,” you reassured him.

He looked relieved. “I’m still making it up to you, though. Next time, it’ll be in my bed, and I’ll try to last at least two minutes.”

“Setting the bar high, huh?” you asked with a laugh.

“Reaching for the stars,” he agreed.

You stretched and yawned, suddenly more tired than you’d been in a long time. When you glanced at the clock, you realized it had been almost 24 hours since you’d last slept, and you’d never orgasmed so hard in your life.

Your yawn was contagious. “Ready for bed?”

You nodded.

“Me too.” He stood and reached out to help you up off the couch.

Your legs didn’t want to work at first, but he steadied you until you could walk with him to the bedroom. He turned on the nightstand lamp, then turned off the overhead light. When he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a hamper in the corner of the room, you followed suit and took off your shirt and bra, too, placing them next to the nightstand.

You stood by the bed awkwardly for a moment. “What side do you like to sleep on?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He got into bed first, making plenty of room for you, and looked at you expectantly.

You joined him, and he turned off the lamp. The room was only dimly lit by the street lights from around the edge of the blinds. You felt uncertain about where and how to lie down, sticking close to the edge of the bed. You hadn’t before, but you thought you’d like cuddling. Did he like cuddling? You didn’t want to make him feel obligated by asking.

He didn’t give you long to overthink about it before he reached out to pull you flush against him. You threw an arm over his midsection and placed your head against his bare chest. It didn’t take long for you to drift off, comforted by his warmth and the steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear.


	8. Chapter 8

You drifted back into consciousness, confused about where you were, what that noise was, and why you felt so warm. It came back to you gradually. You were in Tom’s bed, cuddled tight against him, and he was lightly snoring. 

It seemed to be shortly after dawn, if the light coming in through the blinds was any indication. If you were back at home, you’d still be in bed this early in the morning. A few minutes passed while you tried to fall back asleep, but it didn’t work. You decided not to move in case you accidentally woke him up.

You peeked up at his face. He looked peaceful, lips slightly parted, eyes moving behind his closed eyelids. You wondered what he was dreaming. He looked adorable with bed head, curls every which way.

When the cloudiness of sleep was gone, your mind shifted to the past 24 hours. You’d have to thank your best friend for the amazing gift she unintentionally gave to you. Would she even believe you? You definitely wouldn’t have believed it yesterday morning.

Tom shifted in his sleep with a soft grumble. He was hard, his erection brushing against your leg. Desire unexpectedly pulsed through you. You tried not to move too much when you slipped your hand down between your legs to gauge how sore you were from last night, hopeful you could have more fun with him later. It surprised you that you weren’t sore, only increasingly aroused.

Curiosity filled you after you realized that your own fingers had never been inside you, only Tom’s. You tentatively slipped in a finger. Your finger was smaller and slimmer than Tom’s, but you still felt snug around it. Inside, you were softer, hotter, and wetter than you expected. You explored yourself slowly, every ridge and bump, testing what felt good. Pretty much everything felt good, just some things felt better.

It took a few tries, but you found your g-spot, suppressing the moan that almost escaped you with a sharp inhale. That felt the best, hands down. The angle made it a bit difficult, but you used your thumb to rub your clit while you shallowly fingered yourself for the first time.

Tom’s erection was still pressed against your leg, and you imagined him filling you again. He’d slide in slowly, in one long thrust, so thick and hard inside you. It’d almost be too much, but he’d soothe you, tell you how good you were for him. He’d use what had become your kryptonite and almost make you cum on the spot by calling you ‘darling’ in that sexy accent of his.

You climaxed, his name a whisper, and bit your lip so you didn’t make too much noise. 

It had apparently been enough noise, though, because Tom rolled on top of you, between your already spread legs.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, not sounding sleepy at all.

“I want you inside me,” you responded immediately, then added, “please.” You knew he liked it when you begged.

Without any further urging, he pushed in. He was thick enough that it was still a bit of a struggle, pausing when he was completely sheathed inside you to let you adjust.

“You were thinking about me while you fingered yourself,” he said, a statement not a question.

“Yes,” you admitted, less ashamed of that fact than you had been, since he seemed to like it.

He started to slowly move. “What were you thinking about?”

“How much I wanted you inside me again. You make me feel so full.” You wrapped your legs around his and pulled him against you tighter.

“What else?” he asked, continuing his slow pace.

“I wanted you to talk to me.” You swallowed, a bit nervous about continuing. “I like it when you tell me how good I am, call me ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ and-”

“Darling,” he interrupted.

You immediately reacted, somehow more aroused than you had been.

He smirked down at you. “That really gets you off, doesn’t it? I even felt you get wetter. Don’t worry, though. I’ll only use it for the powers of good.”

“That’s why you’re a superhero.” 

He chuckled.

His slow thrusts were starting to drive you insane. You rolled your hips back against him, trying to get him to go faster. He fortunately took mercy on you and picked up the pace without any prompting.

“Yes,” you moaned, experimentally trying to meet his thrusts with varying degrees of success. You found a good angle, his cock brushing against your g-spot, and stopped trying to move with him. It would only take a bit more to have another orgasm, so you snaked your hand between your legs to get to your clit.

He pushed your hand away. “Let me take care of you,” he insisted. 

His finger replaced yours. He matched the pace of his thrusts while he rubbed your clit, obviously not wanting to tease you this time.

“Oh god, I’m gonna,” you started, but couldn’t finish as your climax quickly shot through you.

“I’m so close.” He rutted hard and fast against you, chasing his own orgasm. With one final thrust, he groaned loudly and stilled.

He rested his head against your shoulder. Neither of you moved as you came down from your highs, sweat cooling on your skin and sticky between you. You felt the same slickness you had last night while he softened inside you.

“We should take a shower,” he said, muffled by your skin.

“What kind of shower?” you asked, wondering if he wanted round two or just to get clean.

“The kind where I fuck you against the wall until you cum on my cock again, and then you let me wash you if there’s still any hot water left,” he replied.

“The best kind of shower. But we have to get up first,” you said, not exactly thrilled by the prospect.

“Yeah,” he agreed, but made no motion to move.

You felt his cum dripping out of you down onto the bed. “You’re going to have to change the sheets.”

“Comes with the territory.” You felt him grinning against your skin.

It took a moment for the pun to hit you, and you started giggling. “That was terrible.”

You felt him wince against you and pull out.

“Are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

“You just tightened up around me when you laughed, and it’s still sensitive right now.” He finally rolled off of you and got up. You followed him into the bathroom.

He flipped on the light and turned on the shower. 

You noticed a few Spiderman Funko Pops decorating his bathroom and laughed. You picked up one. “Why are they in your bathroom?”

He shrugged, obviously a bit embarrassed. “Seemed as good a place as any.”

The water fortunately heated up quickly, and he gestured at the shower. “Ladies first.”

You got under the warm spray, glad that the sweat was finally rinsing away, and felt Tom move up behind you. He pressed a kiss against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling the back of your neck.

It felt almost sweet and innocent until he reached up to cup your breast in his hand, then tweak your nipple. You responded by rubbing your backside against his groin, pleased to find that he was hard again already.

He suddenly flipped you around and pinned you to the wall, mouth on yours, kissing you roughly. You were surprised, but definitely not opposed, to the abrupt change in behavior. He moved across your jawline wetly to whisper in your ear. “Tell me if I’m hurting you. If you can’t talk, just pinch me, and I’ll stop. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement, both nervous and intrigued. He grabbed you underneath your thighs and lifted you up against his groin, muscles flexing deliciously. Realizing what he intended, you guided his cock to your entrance and wrapped your legs around him, hands resting over his shoulders.

He pushed into you easily with one long thrust, stilled for a moment, then started driving into you hard and fast. “I’m going to wreck you, darling.”

You weren’t sure what to call the sound he drew from you, but he seemed to like it. He crashed his mouth into yours again, tongue dominating your mouth, nipping your lip on the verge of actually biting it. You slipped a hand off his shoulder to slide between your legs.

He broke the kiss and knocked your hand away, again, like he had before. He replaced your hand with his. You were briefly worried he was going to drop you, but his hips had you pinned against the wall well enough that you didn’t slip.

He just placed two fingers over your clit, letting his hips do the work of rubbing them against the sensitive nub. At first, you weren’t sure it was going to be enough stimulation. You groaned with frustration and canted your hips against his fingers as much as you dared with the way you were pinned to the wall.

He moved his mouth back to your ear. “Cum for me, darling.”

That was definitely enough to drive you over the edge into a long, powerful orgasm that bordered on the realm of ‘too much.’ You dug your heels into him and ran your nails down his back, scrambling against him in the intense pleasure. Your throat grew hoarse from the almost primal noises he was fucking out of you.

You thought he would follow you over the edge like he had before, but he didn’t stop slamming his cock into you, over and over again, his fingers still working your clit. It went from very good to very bad quickly. You choked out “too much.”

He immediately withdrew and helped you down from your position wrapped around him. When he realized that your legs weren’t going to hold you upright again yet, he eased you down into the bathtub between his legs and turned off the shower.

“Shhh, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he softly soothed and used his thumb to wipe away tears that you hadn’t realized were dripping from your eyes. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t really hurt me,” you eventually said. “It was just...too much.”

“I thought I could get you to cum more than once, like I did last night with the vibrator,” he explained. “Let me take care of you now, love.”

You just nodded in agreement and watched as he grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the edge of the tub. He squirted some into his hand, then started working it into your scalp slowly with his fingertips. You shut your eyes and melted into him, the feeling of emotional rawness you’d experienced starting to fade away. 

He turned on the faucet behind you for a few moments. You heard another bottle open, and then he was massaging the skin he could reach with a soft washcloth. He didn’t spend long soaping up your breasts or the juncture between your thighs, placing his focus elsewhere instead. You appreciated that.

He broke the silence. “We’ll have to get up so I can wash your back and rinse you off. Do you think you can do that?”

You nodded again, throat still a bit sore, and everything feeling more than a little surreal. He helped you to your feet and steadied you, until he was sure you wouldn’t fall when he let go.

He turned the shower back on, water still warm. You stood under the spray, shutting your eyes while shampoo and soap dripped down your body. Once the water ran clear again, he guided you to the other side of the tub and washed your back. He was as slow and thorough as he had been with your front. After he was satisfied that you were clean, he conditioned your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp again.

The water had already turned lukewarm by the time you finished rinsing off and switched positions with him. You watched him scrub himself off quickly as the water grew colder. He turned off the shower with a slight shiver.

He opened the curtain and grabbed a towel from the bar on the wall. You assumed he was going to hand it to you, but instead, he dried you off thoroughly from head to toe. After he was done, he grabbed another towel and dried himself off much faster.

He took your hand and led you to the bed. You lay down next to him, and he gently pulled you to cuddle into him as you had the night before, your head tucked under his chin.

“Obviously not all of my ideas are great,” he commented.

“I’m okay,” you said.

“You’re okay now,” he emphasized. “I made you cry.”

“You didn’t mean to. And afterward, you took care of me,” you pointed out, obviously more at peace with what had just happened than he was.

“I wasn’t going to just leave you crying in the tub. I’m not an arsehole.”

“You’re not,” you agreed, “and I’m glad we tried that. I really liked when you were...like that, until the end when it was too much. You don’t know any more than I do how I’m going to react to things. This is all new for me.”

“We’ll make a list together,” he decided. “Talk about everything in advance, so this hopefully doesn’t happen again.”

“Do you have a notebook?” you asked.


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you want a cuppa?” Tom asked from the kitchen.

“Cuppa?” You hadn’t heard anyone use that term before. It sounded so _British_.

“Some tea,” he clarified.

“Sure,” you replied.

“How do you take it?”

You didn’t really drink tea. “Just fix it the way you like it.”

You were sitting on his couch, now dressed in a loose shirt and leggings, eating a pastry for breakfast. You shifted, an uncomfortable ache between your legs from earlier. Maybe you’d ask for some Advil or Tylenol, or whatever OTC painkillers they had in the UK, and not be completely forthcoming about the reason. You knew he already felt bad enough about what happened as it was.

The spiral bound notebook that would soon hold what you had termed as The List, capitalized, sat on your lap, but it was empty for the moment. You tapped a pen against the paper.

Tom sat down on the couch next to you and handed you a teacup. You tasted it. The tea was very sweet, but you didn’t mind. You started drinking it.

You stared down at the notebook contemplatively. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“What did you like the most out of the things we’ve tried?”

You weren’t sure you could pick just one thing. Other than the mishap in the shower, it had all been amazing. You’d had more orgasms in the past day than you had in the past month. “I guess the vibrator, with you inside me at the same time,” you decided.

“So, sex toys.”

“Do you have any more?” you asked, hopeful.

“No, just the one. I got it, but the girl broke up with me, so I never ended up using it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Water under the bridge.” He paused, thoughtful, as he sipped his tea. “We can go to a sex shop. There’s one I’ve been to before that has a lot of toys.”

“What about-” you started.

“Don’t worry about someone photographing us. Do you think I just stay in my apartment all the time to avoid the paparazzi?” he asked.

“No,” you responded eventually.

“Compared to how much I go out, there’s hardly any pictures of me on the internet,” he reassured you, “and we’ll go soon so there won’t be anyone else shopping there.”

“Sex shops are open at 9am?” you asked, incredulous.

“Some.”

“Who shops for sex toys at 9am?”

“We do!” he responded, laughing, and picked up the empty teacups to put in the dishwasher.

You placed the notebook and pen on the coffee table and got up.

He grabbed his keys, and you followed him out to his car. After you got in, he turned on some music at a low volume.

The ride to the sex shop was quiet. You watched the scenery passing by through the window, rapt, now that it wasn’t raining or dark. You didn’t regret choosing to spend your trip with Tom instead of being a typical American tourist, but it was nice to see some of London while you were still here.

He parked on the street in front of a shop with lingerie on mannequins in the window. You got out of the car, choosing to walk inside behind him. No one else was shopping in the store, just a bored cashier sitting behind the register looking down at her phone. She didn’t bother looking up at you as you walked in.

Tom picked up a basket. You followed him through a section of very skimpy lingerie that you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing, over to a large wall of sex toys on peg hooks.

You stood there motionless, eyes wide. It was intimidating.

He took pity on you. “Let’s start here.”

The sex toys in front of you were on the smaller side -- bullet vibrators like the one you’d tried and a variety of small insertable dildos and vibrators, most of them shaped like phalluses.

He picked up a pink vibrator that was curved at the tip. It looked like the same material as the bullet. The package claimed it was for g-spot stimulation. “I think you’d like this one.”

“Yeah,” you agreed uncomfortably.

He placed it in the basket.

“Hmm, what else?” he asked, skimming packages. He gave the section of dildos a cursory look before moving on.

You walked over to the next section of toys, not really paying much attention to them, still nervous and intimidated.

He joined you. “You want to try one of these?”

You looked at the toys in front of you and realized they were vibrating butt plugs. You felt your face flush red. “I...don’t know?” you answered, swallowing. “Do you like it?”

“It’s not something I have much experience with,” he admitted.

“Have you ever?” you asked, not finishing the sentence.

He shook his head.

The thought of sharing a first time with him was enough to make you grab one and toss it into the basket before you could overthink it, face still burning.

He didn’t seem as affected as you were and was already browsing more toys. He held up one shaped like a flattened ‘C,’ and you looked at it curiously. “This part goes inside,” he pointed at the bottom, “and this part goes up against your clit,” he pointed at the top, “with or without me already in you. It also has a remote control.”

It did sound interesting. “Okay.”

He dropped it in the basket and moved on.

“Hmmm…” He picked up an oddly shaped vibrator with a hole in the middle. “It’s a cock ring that vibrates,” he explained.

“It won’t feel bad for you?” you asked, wondering if it would be too tight around him, as thick as he already was.

“No. It’ll feel good. I just won’t be able to cum until I take it off.”

“Okay.” It went into the basket, too.

He stopped in front of a display of paddles, whips, handcuffs, rope, blindfolds and nipple clamps. “This stuff really doesn’t do much for me, but I’m not against it if you’re interested.”

You tried to imagine Tom using them on you, but it was just weird. He was too sweet to bend you over and paddle you. “I’m not.”

“I think that’s everything that would be fun for both of us.”

“What else is there?” You were curious.

“Other more hardcore BDSM toys. Solo toys for men, like Fleshlights. Strap-ons, but I’m not into that.” He shrugged.

“Okay. Ready?” you asked, curiosity sated, and eager to leave the sex shop before you exploded from embarrassment.

You took the basket from him and headed to the register. He looked annoyed, but didn’t argue, as you paid for the toys. The cashier fortunately didn’t seem to want to make small talk. 

You took the plain black bag containing your purchases and tried not to look like you were hurrying out the door.

Tom caught up to you. “Do you want to go anywhere else while we’re out?”

“Not that I can think of. Do you have any errands you need to run?”

He shook his head as he used the key fob to open the trunk. You tossed the bag inside and shut it.

When you were both in the car, he looked at you and laughed. “You were redder than a tomato back there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so embarrassed.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed.”

He pulled out of the parking space and started driving. “Which toy do you want to try first?”

You considered your options. “The least intimidating one is the g-spot vibrator.”

“And the most intimidating?” he asked.

“The, uh, plug,” you answered.

He reached over to stroke your knee. “We don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not something I really thought about before, and you’re so big, but I like the idea of sharing a first with you. Unless you have some other things you haven’t done before that you haven’t told me about.”

“Hmmm, let me think.” You watched as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue while he was contemplating. “There’s nothing offhand. One of my former lovers was very adventurous. I shared a lot of my firsts with her.”

“I want to share as many as I can with you,” you confessed.

“Don’t want to save any for your future lovers?” he asked, smirking.

“I thought you said you were going to ruin me for all other men.”

“I did say that,” he agreed. “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life celibate, though, because no one can live up to me.”

You could tell he was kidding and laughed, but honestly, what he said rang true. You doubted that anyone really could live up to him. It wasn’t something you liked to think about, that the peak of your sex life might be what amounted to a 13 day hookup with a guy you’d never see again, except in movies and press junkets. 

You had no regrets, though. You definitely would have regretted it more if you hadn’t let him kiss you yesterday, and everything that came after that. You were determined to make the most of the 12 days you had left.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he commented.

“Just thinking,” you said.

“About what?” he asked.

You shrugged and decided to be honest. “How hard it will be for things to go back to the way they were before in a couple weeks. I had a crush on you before from afar, but now that I’ve met you, I also like you a lot as a person.”

“Wait,” he said, glancing over at you. “Do you really think I’m never going to talk to you again after you head back to the States?”

You were confused. “Isn’t that how this works?”

“That’s not how I work. I told you before that I don’t just sleep with every pretty girl I meet, and I don’t like one night stands.”

“We have 13 nights technically?” you responded lamely.

“Is that why we’ve been fucking like bunnies for the past 24 hours?” he asked.

“Partially,” you admitted.

“Don’t worry about cramming everything you can into the next 12 days at your own detriment. I’ll be back in the States filming next month.”

“And you want to see me again?” you asked, still not quite able to process what he’d just said.

You happened to be stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you like you were an idiot. “Yes, I want to see you again. Stop being daft.”

“Oh,” was all you could say.

“Yes, ‘oh,’” he agreed. “I’m glad we cleared that up. You’ll probably be sore from this morning, if you aren’t already, and I’m not going to hurt you because you think you won’t have the chance to be with me again.”

“I’m kind of sore,” you admitted, even though you were actually a lot sore. “Could I still make you feel good?” You paused. “Not because I think I don’t have time left with you,” you quickly added. “I just really like making you cum, and I want to do that some more. Well, a lot more.”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh, obviously trying not to smile or laugh. “If you must.”

You’d been so focused on him that you hadn’t noticed you were near his apartment again until after he parked.

He popped the trunk again after you got out, and you retrieved the bag. You followed him back up to his apartment.

After the door was shut, he turned to you. “I realized that you are a first for me.”

“I am?” you asked, curious.

“My first American lover.”

“You didn’t have any while you were filming in the US?” You were surprised.

“I was too busy, and when I had enough time off, I always went back home or on holiday somewhere else,” he explained. 

Silence stretched between you for a moment. He broke it. “So, what do you want to do now?”

“I don’t know. Watch TV?”

“Like Netflix and chill?” he asked, suspicious.

You laughed. “Not originally, but now, yes.”

“I can live with that.”

He sat down on the couch. Instead of joining him, you sank to your knees in front of him, leaning forward to mouth at his cock through his pants. You popped the button and tugged down the zipper to continue teasing him through his boxers with your lips and tongue.

“You don’t waste any time,” he commented, lifting his hips.

You got his jeans and boxers down around his thighs far enough that you could take him in your mouth and swirl your tongue around the head.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned and buried his fingers in your hair.

You wrapped your hand around what didn’t fit in your mouth and stroked him. When you realized he was watching, you licked him like a lollipop, flicking your tongue across his frenulum when you realized that he really liked that. You looked up at him through your lashes like you’d seen porn stars do. It was easy to watch him, so pretty while he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

You were stuck in a state between insistent arousal and lingering soreness, feeling a damp spot growing wetter by the second in your panties. It was maddening.

You took him deeper in your mouth, as far as you could without making yourself gag, and moved faster over his cock. His hips lifted a bit in an aborted thrust. It secretly thrilled you that you were doing a good enough job that he had to try so hard to keep himself still.

“Getting close,” he warned you.

Instead of stopping and letting your hand take over, you doubled down your efforts.

He cursed and called out your name, tugging your hair where his fingers were tangled in it, as he spilled on your tongue. The flavor and texture still weren’t the best, so you quickly swallowed it down. You let him slip out of your mouth when he started to soften, working the slight ache out of your jaw before you lay your head on his thigh.

You could hear him above you, still breathing hard. 

“Such a good girl for me, love,” he said, moving his fingers to massage your scalp. You leaned into his touch. “Can’t wait until I can get my mouth on you again.”

“I can’t either,” you agreed. “Going down on you made me so wet.”

He groaned. “Don’t tell me that. It makes me want you more.”

You lifted your head from his thigh to look up at him. “Not as much as I want you.”

“You’d be surprised.”


	10. Chapter 10

You got out your phone for the first time since you’d met Tom. It was past time to let everyone know you were okay. You had 37 messages.

Your best friend was 22 of them, worried that you’d been abducted and murdered because you hadn’t updated her on what was going on in Europe after you landed.

You replied to the other messages first, reassuring everyone that you were having a good time, but you were busy sightseeing. You hoped they didn’t expect pictures. Maybe you could say your microSD card stopped working.

You then told your best friend that you were watching TV with Tom Holland on his couch. 

She didn’t believe you, and you honestly weren’t surprised. It was still a little surreal still even for you.

You turned to Tom. “How do you feel about selfies?”

“You want to take one with me?” he asked.

“My best friend doesn’t think I’m actually sitting here with you.”

He scooted closer to you, and you snapped a quick photo.

You sent it and waited for her response.

It was “holy shit” with about a dozen exclamation points. That pretty much summed up your state of being for the past day.

You spent the next half hour updating her on your adventures so far in London, and thanked her for the post-it note. She wanted a dick pic in return. You immediately shot her down.

After you mentioned The List and how barren it was so far, she had two words to say. Magic Mike. You grinned down at your phone and stole her idea.

You hadn’t realized Tom was watching you, until he asked, “what has you so happy?”

“I thought of something I want to try,” you said, “or really, it’s more of something I want you to do for me.”

“I’m all ears.”

“You dance, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer. You’d seen, and secretly swooned over, the videos.

“Yeah, I dance,” he replied. “You want me to dance with you?”

“No, I want you to dance for me.”

He looked a bit confused.

“I want a striptease,” you clarified.

“I’m not sure how good it would be. Most of the dancing I do is choreographed. Not that I’m not willing, mind you.”

“I’m confident that I’ll like it regardless,” you responded, completely sure of that fact.

“Do you want a lap dance, too?”

“Definitely.” A lap dance hadn’t occurred to you at first, but now that it did, the answer was a resounding ‘sign me up.’ “Am I allowed to touch the dancer?”

“Nope,” he replied with a smirk, “but the dancer can touch you.”

“That’ll be hard.” You wanted to get your hands on him at every opportunity.

“Something will definitely be hard,” he agreed.

You laughed. “Do you have any songs in mind?”

“Hmmm…” He spent a moment in quiet contemplation. “I do.” He got out his phone. “Let me set up a playlist.”

“We’re doing this right now?” you asked.

“Do you have anything better we could be doing?” he pointed out.

“No,” you replied honestly, trying to peek at his phone to see what he selected.

He turned away from you. “It’s a surprise.”

While he worked on the playlist, you sent a message to your best friend that Tom was going to do a striptease and a lap dance for you. She was jealous. You would’ve been jealous, too, if your roles were reversed. Your life was the best.

“Okay. I’m going to go change now,” he announced.

You heard his closet door open, and waited impatiently on the couch as long minutes passed. 

He eventually returned wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a button down shirt that wasn’t buttoned up. It hung slightly open, revealing hints of his pecs and abs underneath. You definitely approved.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way, opening a space up in front of where you were seated on the couch. Then, he started the playlist on his phone, and sat it down on the table. You recognized the first song as ‘Gimme More’ by Britney Spears.

He gyrated his hips to the beat of the music and let his shirt slip further open in small increments, exposing more and more smooth skin and hard muscle. You couldn’t look away. He shrugged it off and tossed it at you with a grin. You caught it and dropped it on the couch beside you.

His hands now ran over his bare chest and stomach, hips still working to the beat. You could see the bulge straining against the front of his jeans as he watched you watching him. You were relieved that he was getting off on this, too.

He slowly popped the button of his jeans and unzipped them, bending over tantalizingly as he took them off. He picked them up off the floor, and tossed them at you, too. You caught them and placed them on top of the shirt.

You noticed that wasn’t wearing boxers this time. No, he was wearing a thong that barely contained his erection. He continued to dance, ghosting his hands over his hard cock now, in addition to his chest and stomach.

You didn’t recognize the next song, another club track with a thumping beat. You honestly didn’t care. The show was so much better than the music.

He stalked toward you, like a predator approaching his prey. It was a huge turn-on. He continued to gyrate his hips to the music, only this time his hard cock was mere inches from you. When he moved his hips near your face, you started to salivate, desperate to call off the lap dance and get your mouth on him again.

His hands ran over you lightly, teasing you through your clothes. You wished you were naked, too, yearning for his fingers against your bare skin again. 

His cock occasionally brushed against you, and it took all the self-control you had not to stop him and wrap your hand around it. You were definitely going to have to change your panties after this was over.

Without realizing it, you had started squirming on the couch. Arousal had short-circuited your brain, and you no longer cared that you were still a little sore.

Tom suddenly muttered “fuck it,” and dropped onto the couch, his knees spreading your legs to make space for him inbetween. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer. Your teeth clacked together when his mouth met yours in a wet and desperate kiss. Your fingers dug into his back when he started rubbing his erection against your pussy through your leggings.

He eventually broke the kiss, breathing hard. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are through your trousers.”

“Please, I need you,” you begged.

“I won’t hurt you,” he responded firmly.

“I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t cum soon,” you insisted.

He was obviously torn. “Okay, but you only get my mouth.”

You unwrapped your legs from around him and scrambled to get out of your leggings and panties, almost kicking him in the process.

He slid his knees down onto the floor. You quickly threw your legs over his shoulders and almost scooted all the way off the edge of the couch while you were trying to grant him easier access. He didn’t make you wait, or tease you, immediately lapping at your clit with his tongue.

It took scant seconds before your orgasm hit you hard. You dug your heels into his back and rocked your hips against his face. He continued to work you over with his tongue until your orgasm subsided, and your body relaxed again. He pulled back from where he’d been buried between your legs, sucking in a harsh breath.

“Did I almost suffocate you?” you asked, mortified.

“It was worth it,” he replied, beaming up at you.

He wiped his hand off on the discarded pair of jeans from his striptease.

You were confused. “But you didn’t use your hand on me?”

“No, I used my hand on me,” he explained. “I told you before that I get off on getting my partner off.”

“I didn’t think you meant it literally. Thank you, by the way. You’re so good at that. You get another five star review on Yelp,” you said, still floating on a cloud of residual pleasure.

He chuckled. “But I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine. Still a little sore, but you didn’t make it any worse,” you responded. “I should probably be good to go again tomorrow.”

He climbed back up to his feet, a bit unsteady at first. He pushed his discarded clothes onto the floor and sat down on the couch next to you. His bare thigh pressed against yours. 

You looked over at him, obviously checking him out from head to toe. “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes,” you decided.

He chuckled. “I’m not sure everyone would appreciate that.”

You started running your finger up and down his thigh absentmindedly. “I would appreciate it, though. How are you so pretty? It’s unfair.”

“I think you’re a little biased.”

“Me and half the internet.”

He smiled. “Hardly half the internet.”

“You’re right,” you conceded. “Maybe two-fifths.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he commented, “but I like it.”


	11. Chapter 11

You grew progressively less sore as the day wore on. Now that you knew you weren’t on a limited timeline, you were more patient, or at least as patient as you could be while you shared the same space with someone as ridiculously hot as Tom.

You were on the couch together, him sitting while you were lying down with your feet in his lap, starting to doze off. “Do you want pizza for dinner?”

“Is it like American pizza?” you asked sleepily.

“Yeah. We have Pizza Hut over here, too,” he replied, “but I usually order from a local pizzeria.”

“Sounds good, then.”

“I’ll place the order.” 

You shut your eyes again for an indeterminate amount of time. It sounded like Tom put his phone down on the coffee table. Then, his fingers were on your foot, pressing into the arch.

“What?” you asked, glancing up at him through bleary eyes.

“I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

“No, s’good. Just surprised, that’s all.” You closed your eyes and enjoyed the massage for a while, mind wandering pleasantly. “Do you have a foot fetish?”

He laughed. “No. I just like making you feel good.”

“Making me feel good is one of your many talents.”

You finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep until the doorbell woke you up. You didn’t open your eyes until you smelled pizza, and your stomach growled to remind you that you hadn’t eaten in a while. With a groan, you sat up, groggy. It took a few minutes for your head to clear.

“How long was I asleep?” you eventually asked while you were checking the time. It was already a bit late.

“About an hour,” he replied between bites.

You grabbed a slice and were relieved that it was exactly like American pizza. It was also delicious. Tom had good taste in pizza. You ate your fill and felt even sleepier afterward than you had before.

“There’s something I want to try,” you said, with a yawn.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I liked feeling you hard up against me while you were still asleep this morning. I really wanted to touch you, but I wanted to make sure that was okay. Would you mind if I woke you up with sex?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Good. I think I’m going to head to bed.”

He got up and unexpectedly pulled you into a kiss. “Good night, love. I’ll be joining you shortly.”

You walked slowly to the bedroom. After almost lying down still dressed, you quickly stripped and added your outfit to yesterday’s on the floor in front of the nightstand. You really needed to find a better place for your dirty laundry. Maybe Tom had another hamper somewhere. You’d ask in the morning.

You crawled over to the far side of the bed, so he’d have room to lie down when he was ready. The pillow smelled like him. You buried your face in it and breathed in his comforting, masculine scent until you fell asleep.

You were startled awake when you felt the bed dip as Tom climbed in next to you. You rolled over to cuddle like you had the previous night, arm wrapped around him and head on his chest. His steady heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.

When you woke up again, morning light was streaming in around the edges of the blinds. Your mind was clearer this time, and you actually felt well-rested. 

The best part of all, though, was that Tom was still asleep, softly snoring again. He’d also thrown the blanket off at some point during the night, so you had unrestricted access to his body, including the morning wood he was currently sporting.

Before you did anything else, you nervously checked if you were still sore. The answer was a resounding no, and you proceeded with your plan. The prospect of waking Tom up with sex already had you plenty wet enough for what you were going to do.

You carefully placed a leg on either side of his hips, trying not to jar him too much, and grabbed his erection in your hand. You lined it up with your entrance and let gravity do most of the work. You sank down onto him slowly, the initial breach still uncomfortable, but less so than it had been. 

As you lowered, you could feel every last millimeter filling you up. He felt impossibly big in this position, longer and thicker than he had previously. You stilled until you realized you weren’t going to completely adjust to him in this position. It went from an uncomfortable ache to an intense stretch.

You worked yourself unhurriedly up and down, from root to tip, a few times before his brown eyes fluttered open. His lips parted slightly as he silently watched you fuck yourself on his cock. 

You decided to give him a show and worked your hips over him faster. You ran your hands over your breasts and toyed with your nipples, until they were ultra sensitive hard nubs. You’d never really played with your breasts when you touched yourself in the past, and enjoyed it more than you expected to. It was something to explore later.

You moved a hand between your already spread legs and waited to see if he’d take over like he had the last few times. He didn’t. You collected some extra wetness from around your entrance and rubbed your clit in fast, tight circles, eager to reach your climax quickly. Your legs were starting to feel the strain of using muscles you didn’t use often.

It didn’t take long for you to topple over the edge, sinking down on Tom’s cock until you were flush with his body. You rocked your hips against him again and again, chanting his name. When your orgasm finally subsided, he tugged you down until you were lying flat on top of him, fucking up into you with quick thrusts until he spilled inside you.

You waited until his breathing evened out to break the silence. “You were really quiet,” you commented. “Was it okay?”

“It was so good I thought I had to be dreaming. Didn’t want to wake up. I’ll make it better for you next time,” he promised.

“No need. It was already good for me. I really liked how big you feel when I’m on top. I didn’t even know that was possible. I honestly wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it.”

“You handled it so well, too, taking my cock like you were made for it. Such a good girl for me,” he praised.

His words caused you to shiver against him, making the mess between your legs that much slicker. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Maybe,” he replied, drawing the word out.

You could feel that he was still softening inside you. You knew he’d still be sensitive so you didn’t move your hips against him, as tempted as you were. “Looking for round two?”

“Depends,” he answered.

His one word answers were frustrating. “On what?”

“Are you sore?” he asked.

“Only my thighs,” you responded.

“I’ll take it easy on you, then.” 

He softened enough that he slipped out, and you cringed at the unpleasant sensation. 

You climbed off of him and got up before you dripped on the sheets, wincing when your thighs protested a bit. “What do you have in mind?”

“I want to bend you over and fuck you in the shower.” He could tell that you were nervous about shower sex after what happened yesterday, and added, “nothing different than what we’ve already done this time, just the new position.”

You felt better knowing what was to come, other than hopefully both of you, of course. 

He pushed himself to his feet, too, stretching when he was standing again. You trailed behind him as he walked into the bathroom, flipping on the light and turning on the shower. The Spiderman Funko Pops decorating his bathroom made you smile again, still amused by their location.

After the water was warm, he ushered you into the shower and got in behind you. He pulled you against him into a kiss, wet and soft and full of tongue, as the spray cascaded down on you both. His thumb stroked your jawline gently, one hand against your face and the other resting motionless on your lower back. Drastically different from the day before.

The hand on your lower back eventually moved between your legs, stroking against you teasingly for a moment before a finger dipped inside you slickly. He withdrew his hand and turned you around, pressing you down until you were bent over with a warm and solid hand on your upper back. You placed your hands flat against the tile wall.

He used his foot to urge your legs apart and ran a single finger lightly down your spine, eliciting a shiver. He guided himself against your entrance, pressing inside in a long, smooth slide. His hips were flush against your backside.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Please,” you replied.

He thrust into you unhurriedly at first with little force, hands resting on your hips. When you noticed he was grazing your g-spot, but not enough for real stimulation, you moved your hips backwards into him. Hopefully, that would encourage him to stop treating you so tenderly.

He fortunately took your hint and fucked into you harder and faster in increments. The angle had his cock steadily hitting your g-spot, drawing loud moans from you.

“Fuck, Tom, please,” you begged. You awkwardly reached backward with one hand, fumbling to grab one of his, tugging it toward the juncture between your thighs. He quickly realized what you wanted and reached his hand around to find your clit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, darling,” he promised. His finger flicked against your clit, cock still steadily thrusting against your g-spot with sure strokes. The dual stimulation and your favorite pet name were enough to send you over the edge. Your fingers scrambled against the wall while you fucked yourself back onto him harder and faster than he was going.

He gave you exactly what you wanted and slammed into you quick and rough while you came. Your moans and the sound of his hips bruisingly hitting your backside echoed off of the shower walls. He reached his peak while you were still in the midst of your own climax, spilling into you with short thrusts. You came down from the high together, unmoving for quite some time.

He eventually withdrew and pulled you up against him, your back to his front. His arms wrapped around you, hugging you tight. He brushed a soft kiss on your shoulder. You tipped your head back. His lips slid across your skin to press kisses against your exposed neck. His lips gently explored all of the skin he could reach, obviously intended to soothe instead of arouse.

The water spraying down on you grew lukewarm.

“We should probably wash off now,” you said, “before the water gets cold.”

“Probably,” he agreed.

You reluctantly separated. He didn’t wash you this time. Instead, you quickly took turns getting clean and rinsing off, as the water cooled. He turned off the shower before it was ice cold.


	12. Chapter 12

Most of the day had passed by uneventfully and fully clothed. Even though Tom insisted you didn’t have to, you’d helped him clean up around his apartment and cooked lunch together. You found that you very much liked being domestic with him.

You were now lounging on the couch on your phone, secretly making sure no one posted any pictures of you at the sex shop the previous day. It had been eating at the back of your mind for hours, but you wanted to wait until you were alone to check. After a thorough search, you couldn’t find any and sighed in relief. The meet and greet was the most recent thing people were talking about.

“There’s something I want to try,” Tom said from behind you. “Don’t feel obligated, though.”

“Oh?” you asked, very interested.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” he responded.

You were confused. That wasn’t really ‘trying’ anything. People went out to dinner together all the time.

He walked in front of you and held up the flattened c-shaped vibrator.

You were still a little confused about how the two were related.

“It has a remote control,” he explained.

Your eyes widened in realization. “You want public sex?”

“Discreet public sex,” he corrected.

“But what if someone notices?” The thought mortified you.

“No one will pay us any mind,” he responded confidently, sitting down on the couch next to you. “There’s a hole in the wall Thai place I go to sometimes. It’s never busy. We’ll sit in the back corner booth.”

You quietly considered it, the insistent spark of arousal it stirred between your legs versus the thought of being found out and arrested. Did they arrest people for that? You weren’t sure and didn’t really want to find out.

“Okay,” you eventually agreed.

He grinned brightly at you and started to open the package.

“Have you done this before?” you asked.

“Not this exactly, but I did have sex in a park in the middle of the night once,” he replied, pulling the vibrator out of the blister pack. 

You watched as he inserted the batteries into both the remote and the vibrator itself. When he pressed a button on the remote, the vibrator quietly buzzed to life. He experimented with the settings for a while, eventually handing it to you.

It wasn’t intimidating in size, significantly smaller than Tom’s cock, probably because it was intended to be used during sex. You weren’t sure how something else in addition to Tom would fit inside you when Tom barely did, but uncertainty hadn’t stopped you from trying anything so far. You’d add it to The List.

You ran your fingers over the vibrator. The material was soft and smooth, not quite as silky as the silicone, but it felt like it would still be comfortable for insertion. You guessed you’d find out soon enough. You were momentarily startled when Tom used the remote to turn it on, cycling slowly through the settings while you held it.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think you’re a bad influence,” you replied.

He chuckled and looked pleased with himself.

You put the vibrator down next to you on the couch.

He turned to you and kissed you, warm and wet and thorough. His hand pushed your skirt up, and he brushed his fingers over your already damp panties.

He pulled his mouth back slightly. “So wet for me already,” he said against your lips.

“So wet for you always,” you corrected. “You seem to have no idea how sexy you are.”

He huffed a laugh, then kneeled in front of you, licking his lips as he slid your panties slowly down your legs. You watched him grab the vibrator from beside you and use his hands to spread your legs apart.

The insertable part of the vibrator slipped inside easily through your wetness, comfortable but still noticeable, and he nestled the top part against your clit. You waited for him to test it, but he never did. He simply pulled your panties back on over the vibrator and smoothed your skirt down over your legs again.

He helped you to your feet. “How is it?”

“I think I’ll have to get used to it.” You found it slightly awkward to walk with the vibrator inside you. After walking around his living room for a bit, you felt that no one would question it.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered.

It was already dusk, and you were glad that you had the cover of near darkness to help hide the secret nestled between your legs.

The drive to the restaurant was short. You didn’t really feel like you’d had enough time to prepare yourself, but maybe that feeling would have never come.

Tom suggested the pad thai, and you both ordered that at the front of the restaurant. You spent the entire time wondering when Tom was going to activate the vibrator.

“They’ll bring it to the table,” he said as he led you to the back corner booth. It was out of the way and as discreet as it could be.

You sat down gingerly, feeling the vibrator pushing deeper into you. Long moments passed, and you stared at him expectantly. Maybe the remote wasn’t working?

That theory was proven wrong as the vibrator suddenly buzzed to life inside you, causing you to buck your hips and bump into the table. You quickly looked around, but no one had noticed.

Tom snickered.

He left it on the lowest setting, watching you, rapt, as you tried not to obviously squirm. You were about three-quarters of the way to an orgasm and utterly and completely sexually frustrated. Tom Holland was an asshole.

Long minutes passed, but you didn’t adjust to the vibrations, so full of want that you were aching. You wondered if you could convince Tom to have a quickie in the bathroom.

The waitress approached the table with your plates, interrupting your thoughts. As she was placing your dinner in front of you on the table, Tom commented, “doesn’t this look delicious, darling?” He simultaneously increased the intensity setting on the vibrator by a couple notches.

The combination of your favorite pet name and the stronger vibrations sent you soaring over the edge into what would have been the best orgasm of your life, if you didn’t have to desperately try to hide it. You bit your lip so hard you tasted copper, inhaled sharply and tried your best to conceal the fact that you were cumming harder than you ever had before from the waitress, unable to help squirming against the padded bench.

“Are you unwell?” she asked, obviously concerned.

“I’m fine,” you choked out as best you could. “Just had a muscle spasm.”

She looked at you funny, then walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you groaned. “I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he responded, entirely too pleased with himself.

“Two can play at this game,” you muttered to yourself. You glanced around again and slipped your foot out of your shoe to trail up Tom’s leg, until you reached his groin. You could feel his erection straining against his pants with your toes. You rubbed the ball of your foot against it for a while, watching him try to hide his pleasure.

Your mind wandered back to the thought of convincing him to have sex with you in the bathroom. If how hard he was in his pants was any indication, it probably wouldn’t take much convincing.

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” you said, choosing your words carefully and hoping he caught on to your offer. It was more difficult to walk with the stronger vibrations, but you managed it. The single bathroom was unisex. 

You waited eagerly by the door until you heard a quiet tapping against it. You opened the door, and Tom quickly entered. You shut the door behind him and locked it.

His lips were immediately on yours, tongue in your mouth, hands roaming all over your body. It was the most desperate kiss you’d shared. That, combined with the vibrator, left you incredibly close to a second orgasm.

“We don’t have much time,” he breathed against your mouth, reaching between you to undo his pants and get his cock out.

“How are we going to?” you trailed off.

He answered the question for you when he leaned you over the sink and bunched your skirt up around your waist. He fumbled as he moved your panties to the side and pushed in, vibrator still inside you and buzzing away.

Instead of being uncomfortable, the stretch was delicious. You pressed back against him, immediately wanting, no needing, more.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. You could see his eyes almost roll back up into his head through the mirror. 

“Please, Tom,” you begged quietly, wiggling your ass against him, hoping to spur him into action. 

It worked. You watched his face as he started to fuck into you, hard and fast. Seeing the pleasure written there was the last bit you needed to bring you to another intense orgasm. While your climax coursed through your body, bright and hot, your eyes screwed shut. You buried your face in your arm to muffle your moans.

There was a cut off groan behind you, then Tom cursed softly, and stilled. He pulled out and used the remote to turn of the vibrator.

All you could hear after that was the labored breathing you shared.

You used the sink to push yourself upright again and removed the vibrator from inside you, rinsing it off and dropping it in your purse. It was most definitely an effort in vain, but you quickly tried to make it look less like you’d just had sex in a public bathroom. You felt his cum dripping down your thighs, but there were no paper towels, and the toilet paper was thin enough that it would do no good to clean up the mess.

You exited the bathroom first and returned to the booth, cringing at the sticky, wet feeling as you sat down. Your food was untouched, but you weren’t particularly hungry.

Tom joined you soon after, sitting across from you quietly, also not eating.

“Do you want to-” you asked, gesturing at the door behind you.

“Yes,” he replied immediately.

You quickly exited the restaurant with him, walking out the door into the night, and got in his car.

“I can’t believe we just did that!” he exclaimed.

“I know!” you agreed.

“I haven’t cum that hard in ages,” he commented.

“I don’t think I’ve cum that hard ever,” you admitted.

“You should have seen your face when the waitress was bringing our food. I don’t think it’s possible for anything else to be so hilarious and such a turn on at the same time,” he said.

You felt your face flush at the memory. “I still hate you for that.”

“You don’t,” he said with certainty.

“I don’t,” you agreed. “I just don’t think I can ever go back there again.”

“That’s too bad. They have the best pad thai.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you pointed out.


	13. Chapter 13

Your fantasies before you’d met Tom were mostly of the ‘boring’ vanilla variety. You’d definitely enjoyed all of the vanilla things you tried with him, and liked repeating your favorites. Trying new things held a different sort of excitement, though.

You had the sex toys you hadn’t gotten to yet waiting in his bedroom, but you still had over a week to get to those before your trip was over, and an indeterminate amount of time after. 

You really wanted to know what other options were out there. It led to you browsing suggestions for things people tried to spice up their sex lives and definitions of fetishes and sex acts that hadn’t even occurred to you before.

Some of it was a definite and immediate, “no,” but other things piqued your curiosity. Role-playing sounded particularly interesting to you. You were worried it wouldn’t be good for Tom, though, since his job was essentially the same thing. Minus the sex part. (Although he’d make a good porn star.)

“”Is that a list of kinks?” Tom asked, looking over your shoulder from behind the couch.

You jumped, startled, and instinctually clutched your phone to your chest to hide it. After a moment, you tipped your head back to stare up at him, upside-down. “Maybe?”

“Is there something you should tell me?” He smirked down at you.

“I’m just curious,” you admitted. “People like so many different things.”

“They do,” he agreed. “Anything strike your fancy?”

“Well…” You shifted nervously.

“Well?” he prompted you to continue.

“How do you feel about role-playing?” you asked nervously.

“Depends. What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to try the teacher-student thing,” you confessed nervously.

“I know my assignment is late, but ma’am I can-” he started in his Peter Parker voice.

With a groan, you interrupted, “don’t do that!”

There was now a major disconnect in your mind with Tom Holland, movie star and Spiderman, and Tom, the (relatively) normal guy you’d thoroughly enjoyed spending the last few days with. You liked the latter much, much better.

“Don’t do what?” he asked, still using the accent, and sporting a shit-eating grin.

“You know what. Sound American. It’s weird.” You couldn’t help but laugh, though.

He leaned over, lips meeting yours, and gave you a long and thorough Spiderman kiss. That you actually really liked, even if the angle was a bit strange at first.

After he reluctantly pulled away, you asked, “Are you done being Peter Parker now?”

“Sorry, love,” he apologized, obviously not sorry, but at least in his natural British accent. “I am.”

A moment of silence passed, before you told him, “when I fantasize about it, it’s not like that.”

“I know. I figured you’d be the one who wanted to do anything necessary to earn her A.”

You nodded. “It’s not weird for you, though, since acting is your job?” you asked, still concerned.

“Not at all,” he reassured you. “Work is scripted, and more importantly, I don’t get to cum at work.”

You chuckled and watched him walk around the couch and over to the coffee table. He picked up the pen and notebook that contained The List and turned to a blank page. He scribbled something down, tore out the piece of paper, and handed it to you.

Then, he walked behind you and sat down at the kitchen table with the notepad and pen in front of him, looking down at it and pretending to work.

You glanced down at the paper. It said “EXAM” in large letters in the middle of the page, with a circled F at the top, and “See me!” written next to it.

Your heart rate picked up as you approached the kitchen table, already wet in your panties and you hadn’t even started yet. You took a deep breath. “You wanted to see me after class, sir?”

He looked up from the notebook. “Yes. You failed your exam, and you’re very close to failing the course. A levels are soon, and you’ll never get into uni at this rate.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You paused, crinkling the paper in your hand nervously. “Is there something I can do to bring up my grade? Maybe some extra credit?”

“If I offer extra credit to you, I have to offer it to everyone,” he pointed out.

“Please, sir,” you begged. “I can’t afford to fail this class.”

“I don’t know.” He tapped the pen against the notebook, looking pensive. “Well, there might be one thing you can do for me.”

“I’ll do anything!” you quickly responded, wondering what that ‘anything’ was going to be. Maybe he’d fuck you while you were bent over his ‘desk.’ You hadn’t tried anything in the kitchen yet.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

You paused, uncertain what the answer was supposed to be, or if it even mattered. “No, sir,” you eventually settled on.

“I must admit I’m surprised. You’re a very attractive young woman,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you responded, looking down shyly, “but what does that have to do with my grade?”

“You’re always nibbling on the end of your pen, biting your lip, sticking the tip of your tongue out while you’re thinking, drawing attention to your mouth.”

You started to realize where this was going, and tried not to smile. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” you said, coyly.

“You’re going to stop being a tease today.” He stood and pushed the chair back in. “Are you ready to earn your extra credit?”

You knew your arousal was probably palpable at this point, and your mouth was already starting to water at the thought of sucking his cock again.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, knowing you weren’t doing a great job of hiding how eager you were.

He used your shoulders to push you down to your knees in front of him. The paper you were holding slipped from your fingers down onto the floor.

You could see the outline of his erection against the fabric of pants, and watched as he slowly unbuttoned and unzipped them. Who was being the tease now? He finally pulled his cock out.

There was a drop of precum on the tip, and you glanced up at him as you made a show of licking it away. You alternated between unhurriedly running your tongue over and wetly mouthing at the head, the shaft, down to the base and back up again, curious what he’d do next.

“I thought I said you were going to stop being a tease,” he eventually commented.

You pulled your mouth back and looked directly up at him. “I’m sorry, sir.” Then, you actually took his cock in your mouth and started to bob your head shallowly, glancing up at him again through your lashes. He seemed unimpressed.

“You don’t listen very well, do you?” He buried his fingers in your hair and guided your head to move over him faster and deeper, but obviously still mindful of your gag reflex.

This was new, and you were definitely into it. You couldn’t help but moan around him as he fucked your mouth, taking what he wanted instead of waiting patiently for you to give to him. It was evidently working for him, too, because it didn’t take much time before you could tell he was getting close.

You slipped your hand into your pants, then panties, as inconspicuously as you could, afraid he’d tell you to stop. He fortunately didn’t. When your fingers found your clit and started rubbing it slickly, you moaned louder around his cock, and moved your fingers faster. It didn’t take very long to push you over the edge.

While you were in the midst of your orgasm, his thrusts into your mouth grew rougher and more erratic, less careful about avoiding your gag reflex. You choked a bit on his cock, but found that it didn’t bother you. Maybe another thing to revisit at some point.

Long moments later, he spilled onto your tongue, crying out your name, fingers flexing in your hair.

Already coming down from your high, you swallowed quickly, the taste only briefly on your tongue. He soon softened enough to slip out of your mouth, but left his hands where they were. You rested your head against his still clothed thigh, breathing hard.

“Sorry,” he apologized eventually. “Didn’t mean to make you gag.”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, voice a bit rough. “I didn’t mind.”

His fingers started gently massaging your scalp. You leaned into his touch. “Did it live up to your fantasies?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “I’m not really an actor, though.”

“I could tell,” he said, drily, carefully pulling his fingers out of your now slightly tangled hair.

“Was it good for you?” you asked, hopeful, as he helped you get to your feet again.

“It was.” He paused. “Are there any other scenarios you’d like to try?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Let me think about it.”

He kissed you before saying, “I look forward to hearing what you come up with.”


	14. Chapter 14

After you had learned that Tom intended to see you again after your European vacation ended, time felt less important, less finite. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped counting the days.

You started each morning in his arms. You felt warmer and safer and more comfortable than you’d known was possible.

Each day pretty much amounted to domestic, orgasmic bliss. Some days, you left his apartment and toured London a bit, actually even getting your own photos to share with family and friends and some souvenirs for gifts. If anyone asked why you hadn’t left London, you’d decided to tell them that you'd fallen in love with the city, and there was just too much to see and do there.

You’d eventually stopped checking online to see if you were a part of any tabloids. No one had bothered or photographed you while you were with Tom. It drifted to the back of your mind and stayed there.

You ended each day cuddled up against him as close as you could get, his heartbeat steady against your ear, lulling you to sleep.

You barely noticed as the days bled together. Time didn’t seem to matter anymore in your little bubble.

“Aren’t you going to pack?” Tom asked one evening while you were watching a movie with your head in his lap, both still nude from the mid-afternoon shower you’d taken together.

“Huh?” you responded, confused.

“Your flight is tomorrow,” he replied.

“It is?” You checked the date on your phone. It actually was. “I lost track of the days.”

You were silent when you stood and started getting your things together. You placed them robotically into your suitcase, barely having enough room for everything, since you were leaving with more than you’d arrived with. It didn’t take long before everything was in your suitcase, shut tight. You placed your plane ticket in your purse, nestled safely inside your wallet where it wouldn’t get lost. The end your trip started to creep into reality.

“I’ll need to get you to the airport by about 9,” Tom said from the doorway, “so you have time to get through customs.”

You just nodded numbly.

He finished walking into the room, embracing you before meeting your lips in a kiss.

You were passive when he tugged you over to the bed, lowering you onto the mattress. 

He climbed on top of you and kissed his way from your lips, down to your neck. He nipped, kissed, and sucked at your skin. His mouth moved down to kiss your breasts, teasing your nipples with his teeth and tongue. After pressing sweet kisses down your belly, he buried his face between your thighs, using everything he’d learned from the past two weeks to play your body expertly.

Your mind wasn’t really there, and your orgasm surprised you when it happened. It felt strange, almost like an out of body experience. You choked out a moan and his name while he eagerly lapped up your wetness.

You watched him wipe his face off on the back of his hand before he crawled up to you again. He looked into your eyes, expression concerned, and swiped his thumb across your cheek. His thumb came back wet.

“Oh, love.” He wiped away more tears. “Shh, it’ll be alright.”

You fell asleep at some point while tears silently dripped down your face, not waking up again until an alarm blared.

You were still naked, cuddled warmly against Tom. Your brain helpfully added, ‘for the last time,’ even though it wasn’t really the last time. Probably. Part of you was still uncertain. He could meet his soulmate today after he dropped you off at the airport. You’d be happy for him, of course, but you’d miss him fiercely. These days had easily been some of the best of your life.

He groaned from beside you and grabbed his phone off the nightstand to turn off the alarm.

“Good morning,” he mumbled against you, pressing a sleepy kiss against your lips.

“Morning,” you responded, since very little was good about it. You pulled yourself tighter to him, trying to perfectly memorize the way he felt and his comforting scent, in case you didn’t get the chance again.

“We have to get up,” he eventually said. “Don’t want to miss your flight.”

Part of you did, but you didn’t voice that fact.

While you were getting ready, he picked up the black bag from the nightstand. “We never did get around to trying everything,” he commented.

“I don’t have room in my suitcase for anything else.” 

“At least take a souvenir from me.” He opened the nightstand drawer and handed you the purple bullet with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m sure you can find a bit of space for that.”

You could, and did. Hopefully, immigration wouldn’t confiscate it. You definitely liked it more than everything else you were bringing back from London.

The morning flew by, and you temporarily cheered up after an early breakfast, sipping the heavily sweetened tea you’d actually come to enjoy, while chatting with Tom, flight forgotten for a short while.

“Oh, give me your phone, before I forget again!” You handed it over, curious. His phone soon pinged with a text.

You saw he’d added his number and sent a message to himself from you.

Your melancholy returned as you walked out of his apartment, your brain supplying another ‘probably for the last time,’ and drove to the airport. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, still trying to memorize every detail, not caring if it was rude to stare. You reached departures faster than you would’ve liked.

“Thank you,” you said, swallowing heavily. “For everything.”

You were surprised when he got out of the car with you, opening the trunk and grabbing your suitcase for you. He sat it down next to you.

You stared at each other awkwardly, before he eventually pulled you tight against his chest. Long moments passed, until he loosened his grasp, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, sniffling.

“Me too, darling,” he agreed, obviously not intending to arouse. He pressed another quick kiss to your mouth. “Text me when you land.”

“I will. Bye,” you whispered, walking away, pulling your suitcase behind you, into the airport. You turned around to see him still standing there watching you. Before you could run back into his arms like you longed to do, you waved and entered the airport.

You cried on and off until you were on the plane. The flight was insanely long, and you were too distracted to do anything other than be alone with your thoughts. You only picked at the food that was served, stomach in too many knots to be hungry, even though you’d only had a light breakfast. Your chest ached too much to let you sleep.

When the flight attendant announced that you could turn off airplane mode, and you did, your phone blew up with texts and instant messages.

You nervously opened the one from your best friend first. It told you emphatically not to look online. Your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach as you did exactly that. You quickly discovered that the goodbye you shared with Tom at the airport was now news, complete with lots of photo evidence.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“There are children here!” a lady angrily snapped at you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

You put away your phone and decided to completely ignore it for now, on autopilot through the airport and drive home. You plopped down on your couch and sighed heavily.

When your phone started ringing, you pulled it out of your pocket. It was Tom. You weren’t sure you wanted to pick up, but did anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” you answered when you picked up the phone.

“I should be apologizing to you, love,” he said.

“Why?” you asked, confused.

“Well, you were the one who was worried about getting photographed, and there I went and kissed you in public like an idiot, and got you photographed,” he explained.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” you immediately responded. “Just got caught up in the moment, that’s all. I’m the one who ruined your life.”

He was silent for a moment. “How did you ruin my life?”

“The press is going to harass you now. You’ll have to make statements and-”

“The press is going to harass you now,” he interrupted, “and you didn’t sign up for that like I did. Someone found your Instagram, and believe me when I say that you don’t want to read the comments.”

“I’ll be okay.” You weren’t honestly sure that you would be. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What happens now?” you tried to clarify.

“Well, I honestly planned on ignoring it. I’m not on a press junket now or any time in the near future, and people will forget about it soon enough.”

You decided to ask the question that was really on your mind. “Do you still plan on seeing me again?”

“What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I do.” He paused. “It’s been less than a day, and I already miss having you around.”

“I miss you, too,” you admitted.

“I have a question,” he started. “One that might be hard to answer. You can think about it, if you need to. I don’t need an answer now, or even today.”

“Okay,” you said, wondering what kind of question would require that kind of consideration.

“Now that there’s speculation, I’m curious about, well, do you want to date me? And before you answer, remember that you’ll lose what privacy you do have left. It won’t just be the paparazzi going after me. They’ll be going after you, too. People will treat you differently because you’re dating me. You’ll have to keep your social media locked down if you want to avoid the comments people make. It’s really a lot to ask of anyone.”

You were rendered silent. 

“Still there?” he eventually asked.

“Do you want to date me?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I’ve tried more casual arrangements, but I’m a relationship person. I very much enjoyed the time we spent together, and I’d like to see where it goes. If you want to, of course. It’s entirely up to you.”

“I don’t know if I can give you an answer right now. When I was with you, it was like we were in a bubble,” you said. “I’d probably never been happier than I was then, but now it’s complicated, and messy. The only thing I really know right now is how much I miss you.”

“That’s fair,” he responded, audibly yawning.

“Oh, it must be late there,” you realized.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I think I’m going to bed. I’m glad you made it home safe, love.”

“Me too. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night.”

You waited until he hung up to curl up on the couch and ignore your phone.


	15. Chapter 15

The next day was hellish. 

You reluctantly addressed all the messages on your phone and locked down your social media accounts, purging anyone from them that you thought might share your private life elsewhere.

When family and friends started asking you about what was going on, you settled on telling them the truth. It was a whirlwind romance, and you weren’t sure where it was going.

Everyone had an opinion about dating movie stars, but you didn’t really listen to any of them. It didn’t matter.

Against your better judgment, you did read the comments. Once you started, you couldn’t stop reading -- tabloid sites, and YouTube, and Tumblr, and Facebook. Although some defended you, a lot of people were shockingly cruel.

Your best friend stopped by to check on you and let you use her shoulder to cry yourself briefly to sleep on, still sitting together on your couch.

She eventually had to leave and made you promise that you’d call her if you needed to, day or night. And it was night again, quiet and lonely and miserable. You needed to fix your sleep schedule, now that you weren’t on London time anymore. 

The worst part of all so far was trying to fall asleep without him there. You missed Tom most intensely then. It felt like you’d slept in his arms for more than a couple short weeks.

You’d sent him a text message hours ago asking how he was doing, but he hadn’t replied. As much as you wanted to hear from him again, maybe he needed some time. You owed at least that to him.

You spent quite a while tossing and turning, mind unwilling to shut off its intrusive thoughts. You eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion into a fitful sleep.

Some time later, you were startled awake by your doorbell ringing. You glanced at the alarm clock. It was after 1am. Who in the hell comes over at 1am?

You padded into your living room in your nightclothes and opened the door, expecting to find your best friend most likely. Maybe people had figured out who she was and started harassing her, too.

Your mouth dropped open when you found Tom awkwardly standing there holding a duffel bag.

Instead of questioning it, you immediately jumped at him, almost knocking him over when you hugged him tight, burying your face against him. You were immediately comforted once again by the feel of him and his scent. If it was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up.

“We should probably go inside,” he said to you softly, after spending long minutes in your doorway.

You reluctantly let go of him and walked back inside. He dropped the duffle bag on your living room floor.

“Why are you here?” you eventually asked.

“I missed you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, then paused. “I should’ve asked if you wanted to see me again. I’ll go if you want me to.”

“No, I want you here,” you insisted, certain of that fact, “but how did you know where I live? Please don’t tell me someone posted my address online, too.”

“No, not to my knowledge. Your best friend told me. She said she got my number from your phone while you were sleeping.”

“Oh.” Although you didn’t appreciate that she’d gone through your phone, you were honestly grateful more than anything else. “I hope she didn’t say anything awful to you.”

“She didn’t, at least nothing I didn’t deserve,” he reassured you. “This is my fault, after all.”

“I don’t blame you.” And you didn’t. You hadn’t spent a moment upset with him over what happened, but you did vehemently hate the paparazzi, and everyone who thought whatever you shared with Tom was their business. “How are you doing?”

“Knackered,” he replied. “I think I’m going to try to sleep for a bit, if that’s alright with you.”

“I should probably go back to sleep, too.” You watched him walk over to the couch, and when you realized he intended to lie down on it, you stared at him, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep,” he responded.

“I have a bed,” you pointed out.

“I didn’t want to be presumptuous. You’re sure you still want to share it with me?” he asked.

Instead of answering with words, you walked over to him and pulled him into a fierce kiss. He made a surprised noise against your mouth, then started kissing you back. It turned into a mess of tongues, and lips, and hands tugging desperately at clothes. The pulse of arousal was insistent between your legs, and you listened to it.

You guided him backward across your apartment to your bed, trailing clothes behind. You left the final items of clothing in your bedroom doorway and continued to move forward. When the backs of his knees hit your mattress, you pushed him down and climbed on top, swinging your legs over either side of his hips. 

You rubbed your clit against his erection without any penetration, so very slick from your wetness. You enjoyed grinding yourself against him hard, taking your pleasure from him, while he moaned below you. It hadn’t really been your goal, but an orgasm eventually hit you, a bright and powerful spark. You threw your head back, crying out his name loudly as you came.

Before you could come down from your orgasm, he flipped you over and pushed into you in one long stroke, immediately thrusting fast and a little rough. His mouth met yours again as he fucked into you, but you could barely call the wet moans into each other’s mouths kisses.

He pulled back from your mouth for a moment. “Can I?” he breathed as he snaked a hand between your bodies.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you answered, pleasure already starting to spike again at the thought.

His fingers found your clit easily, sliding over it, and he knew exactly how to touch you to get you off the quickest. You loved how well he knew your body.

When you reached your climax and tightened around him, he found his own release, both of you shaking and trembling against each other until your orgasms subsided.

You’d missed this, too, and thought you might never get to share it with him again. You were glad to have been proven wrong. The last time you were together, tearful and heartbreaking and everything you didn’t want to remember him by, had been heavy on your mind.

After you stilled and settled into a post-orgasmic haze, neither of you moved or broke the silence that stretched between you. You didn’t want the moment to end, not even when you felt the mess of slickness between your legs that you usually wanted to clean up quickly.

Your thoughts wandered to the conversation you hadn’t had about how things between you would continue with him until you made your decision. He said he was a relationship person. He wanted to date you. You still weren’t sure you could handle that and all it entailed.

“Did I just take advantage of you?” you eventually asked.

“What?” He looked down at you, confused.

“I don’t have an answer for you yet, and you said you’re a relationship person, and I just-”

“Don’t worry, love, you didn’t,” he interrupted, stroking a hand soothingly along your arm. “I wanted this every bit as much as you did.”

You were relieved. “What’s going to happen now?”

“I’ll give you as much time as you need, and what happens while you’re deciding is entirely up to you. I can promise you that I’ll have as much discretion as you see fit going forward, though. You make it hard, but I can keep my hands to myself in public.”

“I want what we had London back more than anything,” you admitted and sighed. “I know I can’t have that again, but we can try...whatever this is, whatever you’re willing to give me without an answer, while you’re here.”

“That’s fair.” He yawned. “I know we both need a shower, but I’m already nodding off.”

His yawn was contagious. You hadn’t felt this relaxed since London, and you knew you were probably going to fall asleep if you as much as closed your eyes.

“We can shower in the morning. I’ll change the sheets,” you said.

He rolled off of you, a bit sticky, and lay on his back. 

You immediately threw an arm and a leg over him, wrapping yourself around him like a koala, not wanting to let go. His breathing soon evened out, and he started to snore lightly. After so much had gone wrong, things finally felt right again. Your mind was quiet as you drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

You woke up in slow increments, stirring, as you opened your eyes.

You recognized that you were in your bed, in your place, and the morning light was streaming in through the edges of your curtains. That was normal. 

Being overly warm and sticky was not, though. 

You discovered that you were cuddled tightly against Tom, who was in your bed, in your place, and definitely not in London where you’d parted.

That was also not normal.

Then, you remembered that he’d shown up late the previous night, and everything made sense again. You lifted your head to glance up at him, his brown eyes meeting yours.

“So you’re awake now, love?” Tom asked softly.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, with a yawn. “I’m usually up first.”

“I’m still on London time. It’s already in the mid-afternoon back home,” he explained.

“How did you sleep?”

“Much better than I did after you left,” he admitted.

“Me too,” you agreed and paused. “I didn’t ask last night, but how long do we have together before you have to leave?”

“I start filming in a little over three weeks,” he answered, “so up to that long, or less time if you want me to leave before then.”

“I won’t,” you answered, confident of that fact. Even with the chaos that had unfolded over the past couple of days, your world still felt like a happier place when you were in his arms. You weren’t ready to give that up.

“Where I’m filming is only a few hours from here. We might be able to see each other, if we both have enough time. When do you have to go back to work?” he asked.

“Technically next week, but I mostly work from home,” you replied, grateful for that. You didn’t need someone figuring out where you work and harassing your boss or coworkers. “As long as I get my work done, my boss is pretty laid back about me needing to actually come in. I’m already ahead of schedule, so I should have plenty of time to spend with you.”

“What would you like to do for the next few weeks?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. You hadn’t had the chance yet to think further ahead than breakfast. “What would you like to do for the next few weeks?”

“I’m not sure, darling,” he responded, this time with obvious intent to arouse, and it definitely worked.

You wouldn’t mind spending the next few weeks being insatiable together, especially if that was what he wanted, too.

You cringed as you peeled your sticky skin from against his, moving until you were beside him. Then, you reached down and wrapped a hand around his erection, giving it a couple of slow strokes.

His hips lifted from the mattress, and he groaned.

“Guess what I have,” you said, still stroking him unhurriedly.

“My cock?” he asked cheekily.

“That too,” you said, squeezing it, “but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“I don’t know. What do you have?”

“A garden tub,” you replied. “We can relax in the tub.”

“Relax, huh?” he asked, grinning at you.

“Yeah, relax.” You returned his grin. “We should do that now.” 

You got up, stretching, and walked into your bathroom. He followed closely behind. You turned on the tub’s faucet, adjusting the temperature and waiting impatiently for it to fill up.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed kisses against your neck and shoulders as the tub filled. You sighed contentedly, reluctant to pull away to turn off the faucet when the tub was full.

“I’m not sure how this would work best,” you admitted.

You watched him pause to contemplate for a moment. Then, he got into the tub and leaned against the back corner. He reached out his arms toward you. “Come here.”

You climbed in, warm water pleasant against your skin as you settled back against him. His erection nudged your backside, spiking your arousal.

He wrapped his arms around you again and pressed dry kisses against your shoulder. His lips slid over to your neck, then mouthed at it wetly, sending a shiver down your spine. One hand moved to cup your breast, swirling a finger around your nipple until it was a hard peak.

As much as foreplay could be fun, you were too desperate with want at the moment to draw this out. You wiggled against his cock, eager for him to fill you again soon.

“I think you’ll need to help me guide it in,” he said against your skin.

You reached down to wrap a hand around his cock, shifting until it was positioned against your entrance. He pushed up into you, groaning. He wasn’t in you as deep as he had been in most of the other positions you’d tried, but the stretch was still just as delicious.

“You feel so good, so tight and wet for me,” he commented against your ear, hips remaining still, which frustrated you.

“Please,” you begged, moving back against him to urge him on.

“Anything for you, darling,” he promised as he started thrusting into you shallowly.

His use of your favorite pet name went straight to your core, and you felt yourself clench around him involuntarily.

He groaned again and increased the pace, water sloshing around you both. “This might be over pretty quick,” he warned.

He slid a hand down your stomach, until it was nestled between your legs. His fingertip teased around your clit briefly, before he finally used the pad to start rubbing against it in tight circles.

You’d never touched yourself completely submerged underwater before. It was wet from the water, but less slick, and felt a bit rougher than it normally would have.

More than anything else, you wanted him deeper and harder. He still knew exactly how to get you off, though, apparently regardless of the situation. You considered it one of his real life superpowers.

You tipped your head back and called out his name as you climaxed, toes curling, and orgasm every bit as satisfying as it normally would have been.

His thrusts grew faster and more erratic as he followed you over the edge, water splashing.

He slipped out of you with a sigh and held you with both arms again. You relaxed against him as you floated down from your high, enjoying the comfortable quiet and the warmth of the bathwater.

“How was that for you?” he eventually asked.

“I liked it,” you replied. “I wish you would have been deeper inside me, though.”

“There’s other positions we could have tried, but I didn’t want to soak your bathroom floor.”

“Good call. Do you want to take a shower now and actually get clean?” you asked.

“Getting dirty is much more fun, though,” he replied.

You chuckled. “I might let you dirty me up more in the shower if you play your cards right.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”


	17. Chapter 17

“Your American bagels are weird,” Tom commented, as he ate one at your kitchen table.

You shrugged. “I didn’t even know there were British beigels.”

“I’ll have to take you to Beigel Bake.” When he realized the implications of what he’d said, he added, “that is, if you want to come back to London at some point.”

“I don’t know yet. I mean, I want to, but…” you trailed off.

London had been special, and you weren’t sure if you could recapture what you’d had there. Your life now felt divided into three periods -- Before London, London, and After London. Things were definitely far simpler in the former two periods.

“I know, love,” he said, placing his hand on top of yours where it rested on the table.

You leaned over to kiss him, soft and sweet.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” he started, glancing down. “With all that’s happened, are you still glad that you met me?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ll never regret meeting you.”

Of that you were certain. 

How did the quote go? 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?’ 

You weren’t sure that it was ‘love’ in the context that most people used it, at least not yet, even though it was heading in that direction. 

You definitely did consider him your ‘first love,’ though, in addition to your first everything else so far. You just didn’t know if he’d also be your only.

“I don’t have any regrets either,” he said, “no matter what you decide.”

His thumb absentmindedly stroked your hand as silence dragged on between you, your unfinished breakfasts forgotten on the table in front of you.

“Am I interrupting any plans you had for today, since I showed up unannounced?” he eventually asked, changing the subject.

“No,” you replied. “The only thing I intended to do today was to avoid the outside world. I’m already doing that.”

“Staying in works for me. Do you happen to have any tea?” he asked.

“I don’t, but I’ll get some next time I’m at the store. It was just okay at first, but now I actually kind of miss it,” you admitted. “I really do need to go grocery shopping, though. I haven’t been since I got back.”

“But you want to avoid the outside world?” he guessed.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “Maybe I should just get it over with and resume my day-to-day life, instead of hiding.”

He shrugged, finally finishing the bagel. “It’s up to you either way.”

You cleaned up the table from breakfast.

“You know what? I’m just going to get this over with.” You grabbed your purse and keys, walking toward the front door. When you glanced over your shoulder, you noticed Tom hadn’t moved. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I didn’t know I was invited.” 

“Of course you’re invited,” you said, surprised that he thought he wasn’t.

He quickly caught up to you and followed you out the door.

The drive to the grocery store was as uneventful as you expected it to be.

You had to take a deep breath and give yourself a silent pep talk walking through the parking lot to steel yourself for whatever was going to happen.

“Do you need a trolley?” Tom asked as you walked up to the entrance.

“A what?” You were confused.

He pointed to the shopping carts.

“Oh! Yeah.” You grabbed one. “Your British-isms are weird.”

He chuckled. “I could say the same about your American-isms.”

No one paid any attention to you as you shopped, picking up everything you needed after being gone for two weeks, while chatting away. It actually felt relatively normal, and you wondered if you were being lulled into a false sense of security.

Your last stop before checking out was the international foods section because you knew they had some British snacks.

“Sweet!” Tom exclaimed when he saw them, tossing a few into the cart. “No offense, but some of your American snacks are disgusting. I don’t see how you can eat them.”

“None taken,” you said with a laugh. “I can’t say the same about your British snacks. I actually liked most of the ones I tried.”

“What was your favorite?” he asked.

“My favorite British snack is obviously you,” you replied, trying not to laugh and failing.

He laughed, too, as you walked together to the front of the store.

You made a point of going through the self-checkout, even with a full cart, to avoid cashiers who you thought might recognize Tom.

It took longer than you would have liked to check out, but the cashier in charge of the self-checkout ignored you, barely looking up when you walked past her to the exit doors.

Tom helped you load the groceries into the trunk. You got in the car and started the drive home.

“That was painless,” you commented.

“You sound shocked,” he said.

“I am. Is that what it would be like dating you?” you asked.

“Most of the time, but not always,” he admitted. “Sometimes people recognize me and want selfies, and of course there’s the paparazzi.” He paused. “Did you think people would hound you everywhere you go?”

“Yeah, I kind of did,” you confessed.

“Remember how it was in London before you left, how we went out quite a few times, and I took you sightseeing, without anything happening?” he asked.

You nodded, fondly remembering what you referred to as ‘the bubble.’

“That’s how it would be most of the time.”

“Oh,” you responded.

“Oh,” he agreed.

“You made it sound scary when we talked about it on the phone after I got back,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just wanted to be sure you knew dating me isn’t like dating someone who isn’t famous. I’d rather avoid the heartbreak of you realizing that later on.”

“I’ve never dated anyone before. I don’t really know how to date someone, famous or not,” you admitted.

“For all intents and purposes, we’re already dating, just without the label. The label’s more for everyone else than for us.”

“So we’d just keep doing what we’re doing?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Oh.” You were quiet as you parked in front of your place. Dating Tom didn’t seem nearly as daunting as it had, and you knew you definitely wanted to continue what you had with him. “So, I guess we’re dating?”

“I guess we are,” he confirmed.

You were silent again as you unloaded the trunk, and he helped you carrying everything into your kitchen.

“What happens now?” you eventually asked.

“Well, we’ll get your groceries put away before they spoil,” he responded, drily.

You chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can do this,” he started, then pressed a kiss to your lips, “and this while we’re out.”

“But not this,” you added mischievously, as you grabbed his semi-erect cock through the fabric of his pants.

“No, not that,” he agreed, “but we’re not out right now.”

You dropped to your knees in front of him, quick to undo his pants and get his cock out. He’d already firmed up by the time you got him in your mouth, hand wrapped around the base. You immediately started bobbing your head, not looking to tease.

“Such a good girl for me, darling,” he praised, burying his fingers in your hair.

You moaned around his cock, taking him a bit deeper into your mouth.

Arousal was an insistent pulse between your legs.

You fumbled to get your pants open with one hand, beyond desperate for some stimulation by the time you finally got your fingers into your damp panties.

It was never as good as when he took care of you, knowing your body as well as you did at this point, but you shoved two fingers inside yourself and started to pump them in and out at the same pace you worked his cock.

You tasted a burst of precum against your tongue.

“Fuck, I can hear how wet you are for me.” He groaned, then pulled out of your mouth. “Up, up, up.” He helped you to your feet. 

You stumbled while you shucked your pants and shoes, glad you’d chosen some that slipped on instead of tied.

He swept a few bags of groceries off your kitchen table, contents clattering on the floor, and hefted you onto the newly cleared space.

He pushed into you in one long stroke, and started pounding into you at a punishing pace.

While you were wrapping your legs around his midsection, your hips tilted. His cock bumped directly against your g-spot hard, and you wailed.

“Love?” he asked, immediately slowing down, concern crossing his face.

“Don’t stop!” you cried out, surprised how forcefully that had come out, thrusting your hips against him in an attempt to spur him back into action.

He resumed driving into you hard and fast, right against your g-spot. It felt amazing.

Before you could reach a hand between your thighs to get yourself the rest of the way there, you suddenly toppled over the edge untouched.

You tightened around his cock, entire body tense, pleasure radiating from your core. It was almost too much, and simultaneously exactly perfect. At the peak of your climax, you felt a wet rush.

It was a bit like being underwater when you heard him shout your name, and felt him pump into you a few more times before stilling.

You were rendered light-headed from the intensity.

“That was so fucking hot,” he eventually commented, still breathing a bit hard.

“What just…” you trailed off, still deep in your post-orgasmic haze.

“You squirted. I thought we’d have to use the g-spot vibrator for that. How was it?”

“It was…” You paused, trying to find words, before eventually settling on, “wow.”

He pulled out slickly and stepped back, but you remained lying half on the edge of the table, unmoving, eyes still shut.

You heard the rustle of a plastic bag. “I think we’re going to have to go back to the supermarket.”

“Worth it,” you responded. And it most definitely was.


	18. Chapter 18

By the time you salvaged what groceries you could, cleaned up your kitchen, showered, and took a second shopping trip to replace the casualties of mind-blowing sex, morning had turned into afternoon.

You were lounging on the couch with Tom, TV ignored in the background, both of you distracted on your phones.

“Can I borrow your car?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Do you know how to drive in the US?” you responded, jokingly.

“No, I’m going to drive in the wrong lane and get in a head-on crash,” he deadpanned.

You chuckled.

“But really, I’ve driven in the States before. I promise I’ll return your car in one piece.”

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise. You’ll see tonight,” he replied, smiling mischievously.

“I can’t wait,” you responded, very curious what he had up his sleeve. “Go ahead. My keys are on the counter.”

“Thanks, love. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned over the couch and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

You heard the jingle of your keys as he grabbed them from the counter and the front door opening and shutting.

“What to do now?” you asked yourself aloud, considering your options.

Thinking about surprises reminded you that there was something you’d wanted to surprise Tom with, but hadn’t had the chance to do yet -- shaving off everything below the waist.

You intended to swim during your European vacation, so you had trimmed before you left, but you’d never actually shaved anything more than your bikini line.

You wondered if it would be like freshly shaved legs against a fresh set of bed sheets, only better.

You weren’t sure how to go about it best, but a quick online search yielded some tips and tricks. 

One was taking a bath first to soften the skin and hair. 

As much as you would have enjoyed a long bubble bath, you only soaked in the tub briefly because weren’t sure how long Tom was going to be gone.

A hand mirror, a frankly obscene amount of shaving cream, some impressive contortion, and an application of baby oil later, and you were completely smooth.

You were surprised by how sensitive your skin had become, more than your legs ever had. Even just putting on a soft pair of panties filled you with want. Imagining Tom’s fingers, and mouth, and tongue, and cock touching your newly bare skin sent a shiver down your spine.

You had the best ideas. This was going to be so much fun.

You finished getting dressed, and only just managed to not give in to the temptation to see how it would feel to touch yourself. It wouldn’t be a surprise anymore if he caught you.

When you heard the front door opening, you walked back out into the living room. 

Tom was carrying a small black bag.

He smiled and greeted you with a kiss.

“Is that the surprise?” you asked. Good things could come in small packages.

“Part of it,” he replied. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you responded.

He pulled a simple black blindfold out of the bag.

“Are you going to use the blindfold on me while we have sex?” you wondered aloud.

“No,” he started, “well, I guess we could do that later if you like, but that’s not why I got it.”

“Why did you get it, then?”

“I’m taking you somewhere,” he replied.

“And I keep the blindfold on until we get there?” you guessed.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “How does that sound to you?”

“Sounds good. When do we leave?” you asked, excitedly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He checked his watch. “We could leave now.”

“Do I need to bring anything with me?”

“I’ve already taken care of everything, love.”

You followed him out to your car, getting in on the passenger side.

Once you were buckled in, he held up the blindfold. “Ready?”

You nodded.

He placed the blindfold over your eyes, material soft and silky against your skin, and the world went dark.

You felt the car start moving. The GPS on his phone began calling out directions, taking you to the highway.

An indeterminate amount of time passed as you moved down the highway. “How far is it?”

“Uh… 47 minutes now,” he responded.

“I usually play on my phone in the car. This is boring,” you commented, drumming your fingers against the car door.

He turned on the radio softly. Bruno Mars filled the car.

“I love this song!” he exclaimed, turning it up a bit.

“Are you going to sing along?” you asked, realizing that you hadn’t heard him sing yet.

“Singing in front of other people makes me nervous,” he admitted. “I only sing in the shower.”

“We’ve taken plenty of showers, and I’ve never heard you sing,” you teased.

“That’s because you’re very good at keeping my mouth otherwise occupied.”

You laughed. The thought reminded you of how desperately you wanted to know how his mouth would feel on you, now that you’d shaved. “I have a surprise for you, too, you know.”

“You do?” he asked.

“I do,” you replied.

“Can I guess what it is?”

“I won’t confirm it, even if you guess right, but I don’t think you’ll be able to figure it out,” you said, playfully.

“Now I’m really curious.” He paused. “Is it a sex thing?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” you offered. “Is my surprise a sex thing?”

“Hmmm, kind of?”

“Kind of?” 

“You’ll see soon enough. What about my surprise?”

“It is a sex thing,” you confirmed.

“Were you looking at lists of kinks again?”

“Not this time.”

You jumped when he startled you by tracing a finger up your calf to the hem of your skirt.

“What are you doing?” you asked,

“Being persuasive,” he replied, nudging your thighs apart with his hand.

“You’re going to ruin the surprise,” you complained, but spread your legs to give him access anyway.

“Now, I’m really curious.”

He brushed his fingers over your already damp panties, and you moaned at the heightened sensation against your smooth skin.

“Are you?” he asked, fingers then pushing inside the fabric. He ran a finger over your folds and groaned. “Fuckin’ hell.”

“Do you like it?” you asked, breathily.

You heard him activate the turn signal and felt the car move onto an offramp.

The GPS complained about the change in route.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Taking a detour,” he replied.

A whine escaped your lips when he pulled his hand out of your panties.

“Soon, darling,” he promised.

You squirmed against the seat.

The GPS complained again.

“Bloody fucking thing!” You heard him fumble with his phone. The car jerked a bit, and then his phone clattered as he put it back down.

You felt the paved road turn to gravel. “Where are we going?”

“Just another minute,” he said.

The road was bumpy, and you deliberately ignored the feel of it between your legs.

Bumpy road turned to grass, and the car stopped.

You pulled off the blindfold, light hurting your eyes for a moment as they adjusted again.

There was a dilapidated picnic table underneath a canopy of trees, with a clearing nearby. It obviously hadn’t been maintained in a while.

“We’re going to...an abandoned campground?” you asked.

“Not exactly,” he responded. “I’m taking you somewhere private.”

“I swear to god, Tom, if you get us arrested,” you started.

His fingers were immediately back in your panties, two fingers pressing up inside of you and curling against your g-spot, and your protests died off into a moan.

“Thought so, darling,” he said, with an insufferable little grin on his face.

You moaned again, the pet name doing its job to make you even more desperate.

His thumb found your clit, and he wasted no time bringing you to what you assumed was going to be your first orgasm of this pit stop.

While you were coming down from your high, he slid your damp panties down your legs. You kicked them off. Then, he reached over you and pulled the lever that sent both you and the seat plummeting backward until it was flat with the backseat. You landed with an “oof” and lifted your head to glare at him.

A hand pressed the lever underneath the seat, and he shoved the seat backward to leave space between your thighs.

He climbed over awkwardly and slotted himself between your legs, bunching your skirt up out of the way. 

His fingers were much slower stroking over your folds this time, your skin so sensitive that it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So smooth for me," he commented, leaning his face over to nuzzle against your mons with his nose.

His fingers had felt amazing, but when he licked a broad stripe over your lower lips, you almost spontaneously climaxed again. 

His tongue explored the expanse of newly bare skin languidly, finding every tiny spot that made you gasp and moan. 

When he finally started lapping against your clit, your head thudded back against the headrest, and you started involuntarily grinding your hips against his face. 

He slid his fingers inside you again, fucking into you with deep strokes. 

It didn't take long to reach your second orgasm of the pit stop, toes curling against the dashboard.

He pulled back, breathing hard and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. 

"You liked your surprise?" you asked, still floating in a post-orgasmic haze. 

"More than I can put into words, and I'm not even done enjoying it yet," he said. "But I'm going to wait until later to do more."

He climbed back across to the driver's seat and picked up the discarded blindfold, dangling it from his fingers.

You snatched it from him and placed it back over your eyes, eager to get back on the road and find out what your surprise was.


	19. Chapter 19

Tom held onto you as he guided you into a room, still blindfolded and eagerly waiting for your surprise. It was only moments away now, and you were getting excited.

He shut the door behind you. As he led you further into the room, you heard the sound of water falling and smelled chlorine.

“Did you take me to...a pool?” you asked.

“Sort of,” he answered, pulling the blindfold off.

Your eyes took a moment to adjust before you could look around and see where he had brought you.

There was a small pool with a waterfall cascading down from above. A sauna and jacuzzi were next to each other on one wall, and the other wall was a clear glass separation to the bedroom.

“Wow, this is amazing,” you told him. “Thank you.”

He followed you to the bedroom, carrying a duffel bag. There were red rose petals scattered on the bed, with a single rose in the center.

You kissed him. “This is so romantic. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to, love,” he said. “What do you want to do now?”

“You,” you teased.

He smiled. “That’s a given. I brought some things, too.”

“What kind of things?” you asked.

“Let me grab them.” He opened the duffel bag and lined up several sex toys on the dresser.

You looked at them, curious. They weren’t the same ones you’d gotten in London. “Where did these come from?”

“When I went out earlier. I didn’t bring the ones from my apartment. I wasn’t even sure you’d want to see me again,” he admitted.

You kissed him again, longer this time. “I’m glad you came, glad we’re here together now.”

“Me too.” He initiated the kiss this time, tongue slipping through your parted lips into your mouth.

His hand moved to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He backed you up towards the bed, free hand dropping to push your skirt and panties down your legs.

You stepped out of them and kicked off your shoes. He pulled back to unbutton your blouse slowly, peppering the newly exposed skin with kisses, until he finally reached the bottom and slipped the garment over your arms and onto the floor.

Your bra was soon to follow, and he focused his attention on your breasts. His tongue circled one nipple while his hand cupped your other breast, thumb stroking over the soft skin.

He slid his free hand down your stomach until he was between your legs, stroking the bare skin of your mons. You spread your thighs apart so he could touch you where you wanted it the most. His fingers slipped smoothly through your folds.

His mouth pulled away from your breast. He pushed two fingers inside you as he said, “always so fucking wet for me, darling.”

You shivered at the use of your favorite pet name, and how good his fingers felt moving within you.

He lowered you back onto the bed, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointment, and you scooted up so there was enough room for him to follow.

“I think you’re overdressed for this,” you commented playfully.

He hurried to strip off his jeans and t-shirt, stumbling a bit, and crawled up between your legs. He kissed his way from your inner thighs to your newly smooth folds. The kisses soon turned wet and sloppy, then his tongue was just running over your skin while he quietly moaned.

You could see that he was rutting his hips against the mattress as he pleasured you. You wanted him to enjoy his surprise, but the teasing was enough to make you squirm with desperation.

“I need you inside me,” you begged him, and his fingers pressed back into you, curling to find your g-spot as he stroked them in and out unhurriedly.

He eventually took mercy on you and moved his tongue to your clit, lapping and flicking against it. When he sucked on and swirled his tongue around it, your orgasm hit you hard.

You moaned and buried your fingers in his hair, tugging on his chestnut curls.

Before you even fully came down from your climax, he got up on his knees and grabbed your legs to put them over his shoulders. He positioned himself at your entrance and buried himself to the hilt in one long, smooth thrust.

He fucked into you fast and a little rough, his pretty brown eyes focused on your face, gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want him to worry and managed to get out, “feels good. Don’t stop.”

He bent you over more, pushing your knees down, and leaned forward to kiss you. It wasn’t really a kiss as much as panting and moaning into each other’s mouths wetly as he snapped his hips into you over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m getting close,” he said, as he snaked his hand between your bodies to rub your clit with a finger.

It was enough to push you over the edge again. He didn’t slow down or gentle his thrusts when you came, clenching tight around him, and you felt dizzy with pleasure.

His thrusts grew more erratic as he spilled inside you, hips eventually stilling. He collapsed on top of you, breathing hard.

“You’re shaking,” he commented, concerned.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “That was just really intense, like wow.”

“It was for me, too.” He pulled out and rolled over so he was beside you.

You noticed there was a TV mounted to the wall across from the bed.

“Do you want to watch something before round two?” you asked.

“Sure.” He grabbed the channel guide from the nightstand.

You looked over it. Most of the channels were standard, but one was titled XXX. “Weird, I wonder why they have extreme sports on here.”

“Extreme sports?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, XXX, like the X Games,” you explained.

He seemed to be trying not to laugh and turned the TV on that channel.

It was some low quality very old and over the top porn. “Oh my god, XXX porn, not extreme sports.”

Tom doubled over a fit of laughter. “Holy shit, that’s fucking hilarious.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment.

He looked over at you. “It’s alright, love.”

You kissed him. “I’m going to go clean up.”

As you walked away, he started laughing again, even harder this time.

“What?” you asked, turning around.

“You’ve got rose petals stuck to your back and arse. Here, let me.” He hopped up and walked over to you.

You turned around and felt him peeling rose petals off of your skin, still slightly sticky with sweat.

He tossed the rose petals in the trash can. “You’re good now. Are there any stuck to me?”

There weren’t many. “Just a few.”

You slowly pulled the rose petals off of his back and ass, letting your touch linger on his soft skin. Sometimes it felt so strange that you were dating someone you had a crush on for years from afar, that you could touch him, and kiss him, and share your body and time with him. 

He no longer felt like Tom Holland, unattainable movie star. He was simply Tom, the guy you happened to meet on your vacation and had what turned out to be more than a whirlwind romance with.

“What are you thinking about?”

You hadn’t noticed that he was looking back at you until he startled you from your thoughts.

“How weird it is that we’re dating now, when I didn’t even know you a month ago, and probably wouldn’t have ever known you if my flight hadn’t been delayed.”

“It is strange how things fall into place sometimes,” he said. “For the record, I’m glad everything happened the way it did. I wouldn’t change it if I could.”

“I wouldn’t either,” you agreed.

He kissed you, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek lightly, his affection obvious in the way he looked into your eyes. “But we’re gross. We should probably take a shower.”

“And then do dirty things that will make us need another shower?” you asked with a grin.

“Of course, darling,” he said, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom.


	20. Chapter 20

After getting cleaned up, as temporary as that would probably be, you cleared the rest of the rose petals from the bed to avoid any repeat incidents of them sticking to you or Tom. The whole rose you decided to keep, though, so you could press it after your getaway was over as a memento.

You walked back over to the dresser and took a closer look at the toys he had brought.

There was a waterproof black bullet with a variety of modes and intensities. It was very similar to the one you already had and thoroughly enjoyed, but the waterproof feature was appealing with a private pool in the next room. You added it to your mental definitely, and probably first, list.

Next to it was a rabbit style vibrator that had a rotating shaft for g-spot stimulation. It also had quite a few modes. You weren’t sure how you could play with both it and Tom at the same time. Maybe he had something in mind that hadn’t occurred to you. It was more of a maybe with Tom, but definitely solo.

The last toys were a set of black vibrating butt plugs in graduated sizes, from finger slim, up to the size of what you assumed was an average dick. It wasn’t as thick as Tom was, but close enough that you were sure it would get you to the point that you could handle him.

Those toys made you a little nervous, your heart thumping faster in your chest when you thought about it, at the same time as it left arousal coiling low in your belly. The plugs seemed a bit more overwhelming than the thought of it being just you, Tom, and his fingers. It was something you were going to have to consider later on. Maybe not even during your getaway.

Tom touched your shoulder, startling you. The box clattered against the dresser when you accidentally dropped it.

“It’s just me,” he said. “Thinking about picking one to play with?”

“Yeah. I want to try the bullet in the pool first,” you decided.

He smiled. “I thought you’d like that.”

“I really do,” you confirmed.

He pressed a kiss to your lips. “Let’s head over there, then, love.”

You followed him to the pool, dipping your toes in first. It was a very pleasant bathwater warm. You placed the bullet on the floor at the edge of the pool and climbed in first, enjoying the water.

Tom got in after you, grabbing the bullet from where you left it, and guided you over to the waterfall.

He kissed you, tongue quickly moving past your parted lips. You kissed him back thoroughly and unhurriedly as the water fell lightly over your heads, like a gentle shower.

You could feel his erection trapped between your bodies against your stomach. You moved a hand to wrap around it, making him gasp into your mouth.

He broke the kiss. “I want to try something.”

“Go ahead. I trust you,” you told him.

He handed you the bullet. “Hold this.”

You held it tight in your hand, afraid of dropping it in the pool, curious what he was going to do.

He easily lifted you in the water to wrap your legs around his waist. It took a couple tries, but he positioned his dick at your entrance and pushed inside in increments, until your hips were flush.

You held onto his shoulder with your free hand, handing the bullet back to him when his hands were free again.

He turned it on and held it underwater against your clit.

You jumped a bit at the sudden intense stimulation, but he immediately moved it to a more comfortable spot.

After attempting a few ways of thrusting into you with only one free arm, he stopped and left himself just buried inside you to the hilt. “I want you to cum first.”

“Won’t be long.” You were already close from the combination of the vibrations and the fullness of having him completely sheathed inside you.

He kissed along your neck until he reached your earlobe, nipping it lightly. He whispered, breath hot against your ear, “cum for me, _darling_.”

It was more than enough to push you over the edge, legs shaking against him while your inner walls tightened around his erection. You dug your nails into his shoulders and loudly cried out his name.

When your body relaxed around him, he pulled the bullet away and turned it off, tossing it onto the floor near the pool.

“The way you came around me felt fucking amazing, sweetheart,” he told you. “Let me know if I get too rough, yeah?”

“I will,” you promised.

Now with two free hands to work with, he grabbed you by the hips and started thrusting into you hard and fast, movements made easier by your weightlessness in the water.

“Oh my _god_ ,” you moaned.

You held him tight around his neck with one arm, and slid your other hand down to see if you could get yourself off a second time before he reached his climax.

Being completely submerged underwater with him thrusting vigorously within you changed the way your fingers moved against your clit. You were fortunately quickly able to find a method that worked for you.

You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, and it didn’t take much to get there a second time. Being fucked roughly at the same time and listening to the desperate little noises falling from Tom’s lips made this climax that much more intense.

“Oh fuck,” Tom moaned, repeating your name several times as he spilled inside you, while you pulsed around him with your own orgasm.

Long moments passed as you trembled against one another with the aftershocks, both breathing heavily, hearts pounding.

You leaned your forehead against his and kissed him slowly and wetly as he softened inside you.

“Do you want to go make fun of the ‘extreme sports’ channel?” he eventually teased.

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” you asked, laughing softly.

He grinned. “Probably not.”

You couldn’t help but smile, too. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

He started to walk through the pool toward the edge with you still wrapped around him.

You didn’t expect him to start moving, and almost fell off of him with a giggle. You clung to him tightly until he was at the edge of the pool, next to the steps.

He steadied you when you got back on your feet again, helping you get out of the pool.

The air in the room felt cold on your skin, raising goosebumps across your body, and you shivered as you walked across the room to grab a towel. You handed it to Tom.

“Wait,” he said before you grabbed another one.

You turned to see what he wanted you to wait for, but he started drying you off gently, slowly and thoroughly. He moved from your head down to your feet until you were completely dry, other than your still slightly damp hair.

“Thank you,” you told him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I like taking care of you,” he responded. “That was a bit rough and intense, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m good,” you reassured him. “That was fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, too,” he said as he dried himself off much quicker.

You retrieved the bullet vibrator from the floor and returned to the bedroom, placing it back on the dresser.

Tom got on the bed, and you lay next to him, as close as you could and still see the TV.

He turned the TV on the XXX channel.

A very hairy guy was plowing a woman with a stereotypical feathered 80s hairstyle, in low video quality like it was being streamed from a VHS.

You wrinkled your nose at it. “I’m really glad you aren’t covered in hair everywhere.”

“You and me both, darling,” he agreed, chuckling.


	21. Chapter 21

“What would you like to do now, love?” Tom asked, as you lay together with the XXX channel on in the background, as ridiculous as ever.

“I don’t know,” you responded. “What do you want to do?”

Your stomach growled audibly, reminding you that you’d neglected it for a bit too long.

He chuckled. “Maybe dinner?”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “Delivery or go out to a restaurant?”

“The girls working in the lobby recognized me and wanted selfies. I’m sure they posted them on Twitter or Instagram. By now, people might know where we are. So, it’s up to you,” he said with a shrug.

You bit your lip, contemplating seriously. “I guess it’s something I’m going to have to get used to eventually, since we’re dating?”

“We can’t avoid it forever, no,” he said.

“Okay, let’s go out. You can pick the restaurant. Did you bring me some clothes?” you asked.

“They’re in the duffel bag,” he answered, already checking his phone for restaurants.

You opened the duffel bag and pulled out something you’d never seen before, a red off-shoulder dress that would fall mid-thigh on you, fabric soft to the touch. It wasn’t something you necessarily would have chosen for yourself, but you did love it.

“I thought you’d look good in it. I love women in red, and red suits you,” he told you.

“Thank you!” You kissed him briefly, not letting it deepen and distract you. “I think I’ll wear this tonight.”

When you went back to grab a bra and panties, you noticed some new lingerie in the duffel bag, too. You held up a black lacy crotchless teddy and raised your eyebrows.

“I might have gotten some other stuff, too,” he said, laughing, “but you can go through it later.”

You resisted the urge to empty the duffel bag and go through all the surprises, grabbing what you needed out of the duffel bag, getting ready at the same time he did.

Tom decided to wear a gray blazer with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of black slacks, his curls styled again and no longer looking like the adorable bedhead that you found you preferred.

“You look nice,” you told him.

“Not as nice as you do,” he said, obviously checking you out from head to toe. “If we weren’t hungry, I would already be fucking you again.”

Arousal pulsed between your legs, and you rubbed your thighs together.

“We need to leave now, before I start thinking with dick more than my brain.” He took your hand and walked with you to the door.

You followed him back to your car, going to the passenger side and letting him drive.

“Where are we going?” you asked, as he started to drive out of the parking lot.

“A local steakhouse with good reviews,” he replied. “It’s not far from here.”

The drive to the restaurant was silent while you picked at your nails nervously.

He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed it. “If you’re not ready, we can get carryout somewhere. I won’t be upset.”

“No, I want to do this,” you said, sounding about as confident as you felt.

He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you reassured him.

You pulled into the parking lot of the steakhouse and parked. It fortunately wasn’t very busy.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.” You got out of the car and let him lead you to the door and then inside with his hand on your lower back.

“Table for two?” the greeter asked.

“Yes,” Tom replied.

You were seated at a table near the middle of the booths and tables, very visible, and on top of that, you both seemed to be overdressed and would stick out even more. This was something you’d have to get used to, you reminded yourself. Tom was worth it, worth anything you had to go through.

A waitress came to your table. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Water,” you responded.

“For me, too,” Tom replied.

You were surprised he wasn’t ordering a beer.

He caught on immediately. “I don’t drink at all when I’m going to drive.”

“I could have driven us back to the hotel, if you want to get something,” you offered.

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.”

You looked over the menu and easily picked out what you wanted to order.

The waitress came back with your drinks and took your orders.

Silence filled the air between you while you looked around at the other patrons and staff that were in the area.

“This isn’t so bad,” you eventually told him. “No one seems to care that we’re here.”

“See?” he said. “No big deal at all.”

“Well, some people are glancing over at us, and I wonder if they know who you are,” you admitted.

He shrugged. “I’m not going to stop living my life, and my life now includes you.”

You smiled at him. “I’m glad it does.”

He smiled back. “Me too, love.”

Your orders arrived, and you started eating. The food was really good, and you were glad he picked this restaurant.

While you were in the middle of your dinner, three young teenage girls approached the table.

They stood there quietly, before one pushed another.

“Are you Tom Holland?” she asked.

“I am,” Tom replied.

“Oh my god!” another of the girls responded. “Can we get selfies with you?”

The third girl glared at her friend and spoke up, “are you on a date, because if you are, we don’t want to interrupt?”

“Yeah, this is my girlfriend, but I wouldn’t mind taking selfies with you,” Tom responded, getting up from his chair.

He called you his ‘girlfriend?’ You had to force your mouth shut when it dropped open, relieved no one was paying attention to you.

You knew that you were dating him, that was well-established. However, you hadn’t necessarily taken dating to be synonymous with being his actual girlfriend. Being his girlfriend meant commitment. 

If relationships went well, girlfriends usually became fiancees, who then became wives, and he considered you to potentially be marriage material? That was impossible. He couldn’t think of you as marriage material, right?

When he returned to the table, he said, “sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you responded quietly.

While he ate, you pushed the rest of the food around your plate. You’d lost your appetite thinking too much about all the implications of being his actual girlfriend, and what it meant to him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking very concerned. 

“Of course,” you lied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I have some ideas,” he replied, frowning. “We can talk later?”

“Okay,” you agreed.

He finished his meal and paid for dinner.

You weren’t up to arguing over him paying for your dinner, which he seemed to notice.

The walk through the parking lot was silent, and you got into the car.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, hand covering yours where it rested on your leg.

“I’m your girlfriend?” you responded.

He paused. “Well, yeah? I thought that was established already.”

You swallowed heavily. “You said we were dating.”

“Because I date my girlfriends?” he said, uncertainly.

“I thought dating someone was more casual. Girlfriends imply commitment,” you explained.

“And you don’t want that level of commitment?” He sounded disappointed.

“No, you don’t,” you answered. “You don’t want to marry me.”

He was silent for a moment, thumb stroking your hand slowly again. “Do you want me to marry you? It wouldn’t be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“You mean like right now?” Your mouth dropped open for the second time in less than an hour.

“Isn’t that what you’re talking about?” he asked.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Even if it wasn’t the stupidest thing he’d ever done, it would be the craziest thing you’d ever done. He brought that out in you, and it was a heady feeling. Ultimately, though, it did feel right. Everything with him felt right.

“It wasn’t, but…” you trailed off.

His palm was growing sweaty against your hand. “I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t care,” you told him, honestly. “Jewelry doesn’t mean everything.”

He nodded. “Do you want to have a proper wedding or go somewhere now to elope?”

You contemplated for a moment. “Can we go to Niagara Falls? Everyone goes to Vegas.”

“Consider it done.” He took out his phone.

You glanced over at him. “What are you doing?”

“Booking our tickets,” he answered.

“When are we leaving?”

“Tonight. We have enough time to get checked out of the hotel and make the flight.”

You expected it to be a few days away, time enough to ‘prepare,’ not that you knew what you’d do to prepare to elope, other than maybe try to talk yourself out of it. Really, you’d definitely try to talk yourself out of it, ultimately unsuccessfully. It was apparent that you weren’t capable of talking yourself out of anything that had to do with Tom.

As soon as tomorrow, you would secretly be Mrs. Holland. Your former celebrity crush would be your husband.

How was this even your life?


End file.
